


Different Forms of Combat

by versus_versus



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Domestic, Drinking, Fencing, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, MMA, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unhealthy Relationships, other warnings are included before chapters, that is the stupidest tag, workouts as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 82,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5819314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versus_versus/pseuds/versus_versus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The college AU nobody asked for. Hux rooms with Phasma, who frequents a studio where she trains with Kylo Ren. Both guys are disasters, and she tries her hand at fixing them up together. </p><p>Featuring Phasma and Hux as an abrasive brOTP, graduating seniors desperately searching for jobs they won’t hate, Calrissian family antics, a healthy measure of Skywalker family drama, and drinking. This bounces between dark humor, fluff, sadistic douchebaggery, and family drama, but hey, life is like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. En Garde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: this was written pre-Armitage name reveal, and therefore in this fic the character that has now been identified as Armitage Hux is named Brendol Hux Jr., Brin to his family.
> 
> If it's disorienting enough for you, leave me a note. If there's enough demand, I may consider updating the naming convention.

Carol got home Friday night, still in business casual dress. She came in just as he was settling in for the evening, and snapped the book on the counter shut. “You. Me. Bar. Get your ass up and get ready.”

Brendol Hux, the lone other resident of the apartment, sighed. Living with Carol Phasma had its ups and downs. An upside was her sheer brilliance and professional manner in the classroom and at work. A downside was her lack of a filter and total change of attitude the moment she got home each day. She was a firm believer in the old ‘work hard to play hard’ adage. “You know I should be reading, right?”

“I do, but it’s the first week of classes and you have the rest of the weekend. I need a drink. Or ten, since I sat in training meetings all day today when I wasn’t in class.” She rifled around in her bag. “Also, you need to figure something out to burn stress off. If I have to deal with you and the levels of stress you had last semester…”

He sighed. “I was fine, and I’ll be fine this semester.”

“For tonight you are, you’re coming out with me. But for the rest of the semester,” she triumphantly slapped a piece of paper on the counter. “You should go to their callout. Go kick some ass, burn off all that low-key rage you have at the world. Don’t drive me crazy this year."

He glanced down and sighed. Fencing callouts. Great. “It’s been ages, I’m rubbish.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’ll give you the opportunity to casually beat the shit out of someone and calm the fuck down. Besides, they’re a club sport and you were a junior national contender. It’ll be fine.”

“I never told you that.” He eyed her skeptically.

She shrugged. “I’m nosy. And you have Facebook.”

He sighed and pulled out his phone, adding the callout date and time to his phone calendar reluctantly. “Better?”

She nodded. “I’ll know if you don’t go.”

“Stop momming me.”

“Stop being an emotionally constipated asshat that bottles things up and I will.” She started peeling off layers as she walked down the hall, throwing them at her closed bedroom door as she headed to the bathroom. He sighed and averted his eyes. They weren’t together, that wasn’t a question. She just didn’t feel the need for modesty in the comfort of her own home.

It wasn’t like her behavior was a surprise. They’d roomed together the last three years and it usually took an extreme case to remind him of Carol freaking Phasma’s ability to not give a single fuck about what other people thought of her.

The sound of the shower roused him and he unfolded from his perch on the bar stool, standing and rolling out his shoulders as he stretched. As ridiculous as the entire situation might be, he knew full well that in this state of mind, Carol wouldn’t take no for an answer. He grudgingly admitted to himself that a couple drinks would be nice. He’d been gone on an internship down south over the summer and they still hadn’t caught up properly.

He hunted through his room for more appropriate clothes. Right. They would probably settle on somewhere fairly casual, and it was still warm out, so a jacket was out. He flicked through his hangers, finally settling on a button up and nice pants. A pair of oxfords, rolled sleeves, and a vest completed the look. Comfortable, but half a step above whatever most guys would be wearing out. It always paid to look slightly more put-together than the next guy down the bar.

He’d settled on their oversized couch to try and get through a bit more of the reading when Carol reappeared, looking like a blonde haired blue eyed amazon and dressed to kill. Plenty of people had made that mistake over the last few years but he knew full well that she could knock him on his ass with little effort. Especially given her time spent training at that gym halfway across town, learning MMA and stars knew what else.

She’d gone for a clean-cut black and red ensemble. All in all, he’d have said she looked classy. Except…her party heels dangled from her hand as she packed her satchel. The high silver disasters she liked to wear when she knew she was going to drink a fair amount, because they were both tall and easy to walk in.

He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

They walked down the sidewalk on the east end of campus, strolling towards the bridge that went over the river to the other side of town. It wasn’t a long walk to Chalmun’s, their drinking place of choice any day but Thursdays, when they hosted piano bar night upstairs. Hux would have rather died than go on Thursday, as it was his own personal nightmare to be dragged there with Carol. Occasionally, he’d humor her, but given any other option it just wasn’t his thing.

The sky was clear, although the stars were barely visible through the light pollution. He slowed for a moment as they walked across the bridge, looking downriver. An almost surreal realization swept over him as he looked back toward campus, the thought that something that took up almost all of his life could be so small in comparison to the real world.

“Come on Coppertop, keep up.”

He sighed. Her nicknames had started the moment he’d given her his last name instead of his first. He’d never quite lived it down. “Sorry I can’t keep up with your monster strides in those shoes. You think you could tower over me just a little bit more?”

She snorted and smiled cheerfully as he ribbed her. “Don’t lie, you like it.”

“Yeah, I like it ‘cause you can always get the bartender to pay attention to you.”

“That’s half the reason I do it.”

“And the other half?”

“Keeps the assholes away because they don’t like women taller than them.” She grinned.

* * *

The bar was full, but not overly packed. It was familiar and comfortable, to the point that he was able to hold down the table with ease as Carol went back up to the bar for another round, rather than flagging down one of the waitstaff.

While she was gone, Hux began flicking absentmindedly through his emails, musing over what needed to be done through the course of the next week and adding deadlines to his schedule.

He pulled up the syllabus Professor Daala had sent out to her students. Their first assignment was due on Monday, meaning the never-ending cycle of grading and office hours was coming. Last semester he’d worked out a deal with one of the other TAs to exchange grading responsibilities and office hours, and Daala had been alright with it. This semester, though, he was the only TA for the class and there were three sections. Hux bit back a groan. The class had been easy enough for him, but he’d helped a couple of friends out so they would occasionally give him hints on how to suck up to the professor in POL 237, Modern Weapons and International Relations. Back then, trading for their help in POL 237 had felt like an equal exchange.

Now, being a TA was minimum wage with the added benefit of brownie points with Daala. His research hours in the lab with her were slightly reduced, and sometimes she’d let him tackle grading work while he was there. Technically, it was a beneficial arrangement, but the thought of grading three full sections of horrible essays made his stomach drop in dread.

Carol reappeared, gliding through the parting crowd with ease. She slid his gin and tonic onto the table. “Drink up. I need your tongue loose enough to fill me in on that disaster this summer.”

Hux took his time, trying to gather his thoughts and redirect the conversation. “He was…a bad decision.”

“And…?”

“And I was an idiot.”

“And…?”

“And…it was over before it started, because you know one night stands aren’t my thing.”

She sighed. “I know, but you’d been talking to him for a while, you sounded…I dunno, hopeful? I thought maybe it would grow into something more.”

He shook his head and took a sip of his drink before turning the question back on her. “What about you? You never filled me in on your summer flings.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oooh, you’re in for a trip.”

* * *

An hour passed and she was still trying to explain the confusing tangle of relationships and emotions she’d gotten herself into over the summer. She was halfway through explaining the breakup at the end of July when she stopped and stared out the window at some guy on a motorcycle that had pulled up. “Hang on a second. Be right back, I swear I’m not ditching you.”

Hux turned to watch as she dashed outside, slipping past the bouncer and speeding toward the guy as he climbed off his bike. He was broad shouldered and tall, but he shied away from Carol slightly when he noticed her. Nowhere near as tall as Carol in her heels, but then again, no one could top that.

Hux sized him up. Nice bike, a sleek cruiser that looked to be a Victory, although he couldn’t be entirely sure from the distance and the dark. The embossed leather jacket and freaky looking helmet necessary looked a bit excessive, as the cut of the jacket looked weirdly out of date and out of place with the sleek black helmet. Hell, it might have even been vintage. At least he was smart enough to wear a helmet but Hux couldn’t keep from thinking he was trying too hard.

Carol waved to Hux through the window, breaking his trance. He waved back halfheartedly, annoyed that the man hadn’t even taken off his helmet. Things went downhill from there as the man skulked off, leaving Carol on the sidewalk glaring after him. She came back inside, somewhat deflated.

Hux tried to lighten the mood as she slid into the booth. “So, who’s tall, dark and creepy?”

“That’s Kylo, I feel like I’ve mentioned him? He’s at Millennium Fitness as well.” She took a sip of her drink. “Kind of a bitch to work with, but he’s good, and he’s not a bad teacher.” She looked at him suggestively. “I was trying to get him to come in and say hi, but he was headed somewhere else. He strikes me as your type.”

“My type?” he eyed her skeptically. “You think that he,” he pointed out the window, down the street where the man had disappeared, “is my type? As I said, tall, dark, and creepy?”

“Nah, he’s not creepy without the helmet. Kinda cute, built like a brick wall. As I said, your type.”

Hux snorted. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I’m telling you, I think you’d like him. I mean yeah, he’s a little weird, but everyone’s a little weird, you know? He’s freakishly smart, just not like…book smart.”

“What’s he studying?”

She shrugged. “Technically he’s in school, but he’s part time or something. Started in Political Science, I think he switched to Psych. Whatever he’s in, he hates it.”

Hux grimaced. “You’re not exactly racking up points for him here. If he’s not interested in school, what’s he do?”

“Takes a couple classes, works in an auto body shop and does custom airbrushing on the side. Guy has this way of pulling off near-perfect geometric airbrush jobs, crazy stuff, I’ve never seen anything like it. Kicks my ass a couple times a week. Hangs out with the Calrissians.”

“And you think he’s my type.” He rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“You go for smart, hot, and unstable.”

He nearly choked on his drink. “Do not!”

“Let’s see here, there was that one girl three years ago when we barely knew each other, the one who trashed your dorm room after talking your roommate into letting her in, Jaye, that guy in your materials class, remember that after you broke up he dropped out of school to run that start-up and then got arrested? And…”

Hux sighed. She had a point, and he got to listen to her go on about the variety of stupid decisions his exes had made for the better part of an hour. He only managed to stop her when he claimed an early morning the next day and they headed out for the night.


	2. Weighing In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters bounce between following Hux and Kylo. So this chapter features our second resident asshole.

Kylo had planned to hit up The Vault for a couple drinks, sitting in the corner and people-watching while anonymously trashing some poor sod on menial bar trivia. What he hadn’t planned for was Carol Phasma, walking straight out of Chalmun’s to the sidewalk to catch up with him.

He liked Carol. He really did. Her heart was in the right place, she was amiable enough in the gym, she powered through the workouts like a beast, and she had a shitty left hook that he always managed to get the better of her on. He liked her. Seriously. When she asked him if he was going to Chalmun’s, that she and her roommate were there, he’d actually considered it. But…

He really wasn’t in a mood for company. That’s what he told himself. It wasn’t the near crippling nerves that seemed to grip him when Carol mentioned meeting someone new. Of course not, that hardly had any impact at all. He was in a mood to sit in a corner and drink and…ok, part of his motivation was trashing people in trivia. Even so, he wasn’t in the mood to meet someone new. If it’d only been Carol, he might have taken her up on her offer, but the man she pointed out as her roommate through the window stared him down, judging him before they’d even met. His wave was slow to come, and halfhearted when it did.

Maybe it wasn’t even that. Maybe it was the shiver the man’s look sent up his spine. He had a pale glare that seemed to look straight through him. The rest of his look just went along with it, surgical and precise. He was slim and well-dressed, with flaming red hair and pale, nearly translucent skin to match.

Kylo left his helmet on. It was bad enough with the creeping feeling the guy was dissecting him with a look, but the idea of him knowing what he actually looked like, on the off chance he ran into him on another occasion, chafed at him. That sealed the deal. Carol looked a bit put-out at his refusal, but she waved him off cheerfully enough.

It wasn’t until he’d gone a couple blocks that he felt like he could breathe properly again. He could hear his heart thumping in his ears, and if he hadn’t been in such a public place he would have lit up. When was the last time a complete stranger had tugged on his seams like that? He could hardly even remember. The tension in his chest had come and gone for years, easing and worsening in a pattern with his life.

His hands curled and he fought with himself, very nearly taking a swing at an alley wall. Right. This wasn’t the place for this kind of reaction. Fuck this. Time to go back home.

* * *

He tossed and turned all night, dreaming of cold water and grey snow for hours before waking up the next morning long before his alarm went off. When it became clear he couldn’t fall back asleep, he sighed and pulled on sweats. He ran to Millennium, unlocking it and savoring the relative quiet and cool morning stillness. The crisp smell of chilled leather was cut by the reek of his wraps and he made a mental note to take them home and wash them.

It was like meditating, the sound of rhythmic thumps on the heavy bag, the inhale and exhale of his own breath. His morning workout was a pattern, a constant, a single point that the universe could rotate around when everything else seemed to go to hell.

_1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 step back. Repeat._

_Green-grey eyes from the dream._

“Shit,” he grumbled through clenched teeth.

_1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10. Repeat._

He ran through five sets of drills and he still wasn’t able to clear his head. Usually a morning workout was enough to wash away any dreams from the night before. He’d started years ago, after the accident, and it’d been one of the only things to help push the nightmares back when they threatened to encroach on his waking life. Nights when he came around to a memory of a puddle of blood on the concrete floor and the sound of his own screams, there was no chance of finding sleep again. So he'd get up and move. He’d run or hit things or lift until he didn't feel like he could anymore.

There was a ring of bells from the office door and a set of lights in the corner of his vision flicked on. A couple minutes later, a voice called out, “Rough night again?”

He took a deep breath and stepped away from his set to find the speaker, Lando Calrissian, long time boxer and contender for the welterweight national boxing title back in the 80’s, owner of Millennium Fitness, his coach, and one of his dad’s best friends.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“You know you’re welcome to call anytime, or even come in and crash on my couch.”

“Thanks Coach. I’ll be fine.”

Lando snorted. “I didn’t ask if you’d be fine, you haven’t been fine in years. Just reminding you that the offer is out there.” He moved to go into the office, then turned back. “Also, tighten up your defense, you’re getting sloppy. Drills or not, you’re dropping your left.”

Kylo grumbled and went back to his sets.

* * *

He finished up as people started trickling in, normal people with ordinary schedules that didn’t show up at the gym at four in the morning when they’d woken from weird dreams.

His mind relaxed a bit in the shower, although his loosening control let his thoughts meander again. Water hot enough to steam the rest of the sweat out of his skin was a blessing. He closed his eyes for a minute, relishing the heat as his thoughts scattered.

The rhythmic thump of fists on a heavy bag, the feel of the floor under his feet. A design he’d been working on for the side fairings of Ms. Sing’s new deep bloody red Kawasaki Ninja, slick as hell. It was a relief to work in red and black, rather than the signature Kawasaki green. Piercing grey-green eyes.

“God fucking damnit!” The words echoed around the empty locker room.

He’d only seen the man, hadn’t even met him. It was hardly more than that, nothing but a dream.

Right. He could ignore this.

* * *

He couldn’t ignore it.

He couldn’t ignore it at work, where he rifled about under the hood of a rusted ’93 Toyota Previa and dreamed he was at home working on another project, Lando's old ’81 Pontiac Firebird. He wished he were working on anything else. Any goddamn thing but the piece of shit Previa in front of him. The cost of parts to repair it were worth more than the vehicle, and even standing in proximity to the thing was like a personal insult.

He couldn’t ignore it when he got to campus around three in the afternoon for his one class that took attendance. He sat in the back, still sketching concepts for Aurra, who wanted the chassis done by next week and was willing to pay nearly twice Kylo’s usual rate for it. He hated that stupid, useless, 100 level class. At least there wasn’t much homework.

When he swung by the gym again on his way home, he finally managed to put the entire incident out of his mind. Something about the gym was therapeutic, even when it was full of people that were hardly serious about what they did. Everything seemed to be running as usual, with a number of people working on their own or in pairs, and Lucky finishing up teaching a Calisthenics class.

Lucille Calrissian, or Lucky as she preferred, was a goddamn saint. She was a couple years older than him, but she’d helped him out of nearly every fuck-up in his teenage years, at least the ones he’d been able to keep his parents out of. She was petite and gorgeous, with deep, knowing eyes and a look that was all pastels and feminine curves. At least, when she wasn’t in the gym. In the gym she was a hellcat, and he’d been downed by her on the mat more times than he could count. Not as often anymore, but she’d still get the better of him on occasion. Kylo never would have admitted it, but if he’d actually liked girls, she’d have been at the top of the list.

She saw him hovering by the door and strolled over, her smile one to match her father’s. She pulled her bandanna off and wiped the worst of the sweat away. “So how’s your day been?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “Could have been worse, I suppose.”

“Carol was in earlier, she asked after you.”

“She’s got my number, she could text.”

“Mm, don’t think that’s why she was here. She seemed a bit worried about you. Besides, you hardly answer your phone.”

“Exactly. Because I text. And it's fine, I ran into her last night but didn’t have time to hang out with her and her friend. She probably just wanted to make sure things were fine.”

“Got it." She took a sip of water from her bottle, watching the class filter out. "Do me a favor and check that my dad watered mum’s old rosebush?”

Tendra Calrissian had passed away two years prior, of breast cancer that developed and spread through her body before they caught it. He could still hear the pain in Lucky’s voice. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” She took another swig of water and excused herself, “Alright, I’ve got another class in half an hour, I’ll catch up with you later this week.”

He looked around and sighed. There was no reason to skip an evening session, even with that morning’s efforts. Besides, despite most people’s observations to the contrary when they sized him up, leg day was important. Power came from the legs, and kicks were a fairly solid part of his fighting technique.

Still, he fucking hated leg day.

* * *

Even after another workout, there was still a lot of shit running through his mind by the time he got home. Admittedly, he recognized he might have overdone the second round as he climbed the stairs to his apartment, feeling the lowkey burn settling into his quads and glutes.

‘Home’ was the only word he had for the single bedroom apartment above the garage out back of Lando’s house, a couple miles from the gym. He rented both the garage and apartment out for a pittance each month and the tacit agreement that he’d help train people at the gym. No, he didn’t get paid for his work there, but he also didn’t pay to use the gym. He’d tried, and Lando had pushed the money back at him, bringing his dad and the ‘good old days’ up.

The entire encounter had left him with a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t try paying for his gym time again.

Then again, he paid his way through other means. He mowed the lawn and raked the leaves in the fall, bitching good-naturedly about the black walnuts that the trees dropped, leaving rotting seeds about the yard that just made raking worse. He shoveled the footpath and the driveway in the winter, although they hadn’t had any horrible snowfalls like he’d seen while living on the east coast when he was younger. Every once in awhile, he made a meal and left it in the fridge in the house proper.

In return, he got a place to call his own and a workshop space to himself. With his rent, he’d been able to pour chunks of his paycheck into savings for when his current living conditions changed. It almost seemed to be going too well, and he felt like the tightness in his chest that never really left was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Still, it could’ve been much worse.

Kylo dropped his bag and his backpack by the stairs. He had homework of some sort, but that could wait.

Looking in the fridge, he sighed. He should have gone to the grocery store days ago. The fridge was mostly empty, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have plenty of other things he could pull off with the supplies he’d stashed in the small pantry of the kitchenette.

Cooking for one wasn’t too bad. He’d never disliked it, at least when he wanted to eat. It was nothing on what he could pull off when cooking for a group, but he made do. Breakfast for dinner was easy, the last couple eggs from the fridge, oatmeal he’d baked two days ago, and a banana because fuck if his legs weren’t going to reject everything about that workout the next day.

He toppled into bed after a quick shower. Thankfully, his brain had had enough, and he shut down completely. The mind-numbing darkness, when it came, was a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lando 'Chance' Calrissian Jr. is canonical. Lucky isn't. But for now y'all get Lucille 'Lucky' Calrissian kicking ass, taking names, and being brilliant. Besides, she's more fun anyway.
> 
> Questions, comments, and critiques always welcome!


	3. Advance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love to my lovely beta reader, without whom I would struggle to write epee. Sorry, but I can only write foil with ease, since so much of my material comes from life experience.

Per Carol’s wishes, Hux found himself at the fencing callout two weeks later. He stood by the wall as the club members went through a brief demonstration for the new people, basics and simple bouts he’d seen hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

After the meeting he hovered, still unsure if he wanted to take the step and sign up. Getting back into fencing would be ugly. He’d stopped at the end of high school, needing to focus on his studies if he wanted to get through school in four years. Yet here he was, his senior year, feeling the familiar pang of missing the sport and the competition.

“You stuck around, I take it you’re interested?” He turned to find the club president. From across the gym, he’d thought she had straight hair, pulled back in a tie and dyed at the ends. Now that he was closer, he could see it was hundreds of tiny braids, loose curls at the ends dyed bright blue. He stared for a second, wondering how long it had taken to do so many braids, then pulled himself together.

“Yeah. I used to fence, but it’s been awhile.”

She looked surprised, but then split into a smile. “Nice, which weapon?”

“Epee.”

She looked him up and down, sizing him up. “We could use another experienced epeeist. Thinking about getting back into it?”

“I’m not sure I have the time, but I’m definitely thinking about it.”

She seemed to hesitate, then held out her hand to shake. “Alright, well, my name’s Dhara Leonis. Come with me, let’s introduce you to Zare.” She grinned. “My brother. He’s the men’s epee captain, we’ll see what you make of each other.” She talked as they walked, reiterating what she’d said before. “Things aren’t concrete. It’s a club. We’re competitive, but we have plenty of non-competitive members. You’re welcome to just come to some of the practices, if you like. If you want to compete and are good enough, we’ll take you for the competitive team. Hey Zare, I’ve got a potential epeeist for you.”

Zare was of a similar height to her, with dark skin and a serious look about him. He turned and gave Hux a once-over. “Experienced or totally new?”

“Experienced.”

“Nice, you have your own gear?” he asked.

“It’s at home, but I could probably get it over fall break.”

“Good. It’s cool, if you want to come practice with us sooner, we’ve got stuff you can borrow. We’ve got a supply of club gear, it’s in the armory.” He waved a hand toward the doors on the other side of the room.

“How many left-handed epees do you have?”

The captain almost looked surprised, then his serious demeanor broke as he grinned. “Aaah. Excellent. You really considering showing up? Don’t get my hopes up if you’re just gonna back out.”

“Well…” He turned his options over in his mind. Absolute worst case scenario, he could claim time constraints. A voice in the back of his head said he wouldn’t. “I don’t really have anything to lose, right?”

“Awesome, we’ll see you next practice then!” Zare started to turn away, then swung back. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name, not sure where my head’s at. What was it again?”

He felt his face redden a bit. “Mostly go by my last name, just call me Hux.”

Zare held out a hand to shake. “Welcome to the club, man. We’ll see what you can do on Thursday.”

* * *

Life resumed its pattern. Between classes, TA office hours, hours in the lab, and the newly added fencing practices, Hux found that his studies were being relegated to between classes and painfully late nights. At least his schedule was lighter this year. Senior design was a nightmare in and of itself, but the rest of his classes were interesting, more seminar-like and less problem-solving sessions.

Fencing was another issue entirely. The first practice back was hell on earth. They did footwork for what felt like ages, and his legs burned. When they took a break for water, he cursed internally. If he was already feeling a burn from nothing but footwork, fencing was going to be awful.

Zare pointed him to the armory and he went to go hunt down gear.

It was only a minute or two into the search before Hux decided he needed to get his old gear from home. Nothing was in terrible shape, but there was something incredibly offputting about picking out team gear that smelled vaguely of other people’s sweat. On top of that, they didn’t have anything that properly fit someone pushing 6’2 with a twenty-eight inch waist.

When he’d found everything he needed, he sighed and pulled it all on before heading back out to the gym. Zare waved him over to a strip on the side of the room, at the ready with a pair of dry blades, one right, one left handed. “We’ll go through some parry and disengage drills, to see what you remember, and then we can fence.”

Hux saw the look Zare gave him, with both the jacket and knickers as loose as they were. He sighed. “I’ll get my gear from home as soon as I can.”

Zare laughed, and Hux couldn’t blame him. “That stuff fits you like a garbage bag.”

“You think?”

Once they’d gone through a couple drills, it quickly became apparent that Hux remembered almost everything. Making it work was an entirely different issue. His disengages started out too wide, but they quickly improved. His parries were, as Zare put it, “Satisfactory”.

Apparently they were ‘satisfactory’ enough to move into bouting. Footwork came back to him fairly easily, but the more precise bladework and timing was a bit more difficult. Even so, he started falling back into his old patterns, much faster than he’d dared to hope.

The first point Zare took was more of a warning than a definitive hit. It was light in comparison to most points, and Hux realized he was leaving the outside of his arm more open than he ought to.

He could see where his usual moves should fit in the bout, and it was painful to hold them back and stick to basics. Zare hadn’t told him to, but he started playing with binds again. The timing was totally wrong, and for the most part they failed miserably. Still, he was pleased to find that there was still some semblance of muscle memory.

They went back and forth for a time, Zare scoring more points than Hux wanted to admit to himself. He fought to remember that he was out of practice. Of course he was out of practice. It’d been over four years. He justified it, swearing to himself that he was just rusty. Really rusty.

But he could still see it, he knew where everything should fit in the bout, it was just a matter of making it work again. He could see the tiny openings Zare gave him, enough to be noticeable but never quite enough to take the point.

And then, somewhere across the gym, someone shouted. It was loud in the small gym, but he saw Zare’s eyes flick up to him, trying to see if the shout had thrown him. The captain underestimated him, he could feel it. There was an opening. Perhaps it wasn’t an entirely fair opening, but it was there, and he took it.

For a moment, just a moment, he thought he had a straight shot to Zare’s hand. Instead, Zare knocked his flick aside with his bell and nailed him in the crook of his elbow. Hard.

The surprise was immediate, but the pain took a moment to set in. Then lightning flared in his elbow, sharp needles stabbing outward from the joint. Hux sucked a breath through his teeth a Zare paused and let his tip fall.

“You alright? We can call it a bout now if you want.”

Hux gritted his teeth. “No, I’m fine. Let’s have a few more points.”

'A few more points' didn't go too terribly. A fleche from Zare and a stellar coupé from Hux, and the Hux was ready for a break.

* * *

“You’re not bad, how long did you say it’s been?” Zare looked at Hux as he took a swig of water. He could feel how red his face was, but for once he didn’t care. Everything hurt, but it was the good kind of hurt.

“Four and a half years?”

“Where did you fence before?”

“Commandant High, my old school, private, up in Chicago. Summers at Upsilon Academy.”

His response drew a knowing, “Ohh” from Zare. “Were you USAF ranked?”

Hux sucked a breath. “Had my A.”

The captain grinned. “You neglected to mention that before.”

“’s cause I wanted to see how bad I suck now before I ran my mouth.”

“You’re not half bad.” Everything in his expression spoke of trouble. “How interested are you in competing?”

* * *

“Carol?”

She popped her head around the corner to look at him as he walked in. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“How did it goooo?” She grinned, as though she already knew the answer.

“I may wind up trying to get back into competition shape. At a club level, but still.”

“They talked you into it, huh?”

“Possibly. Maybe.”

“Hey, I know you. You can’t stand losing. If you’re going to compete, you better get back in competition shape.”

He dropped his bag on the floor and groaned. “I know.”

“Going to have to put some meat back on those bones. I’ve seen the pictures.”

He filled up a cup of water from the pitcher and gulped half of it down in one go. “I’m not even going to try to get back to where I was, there’s no way.”

Carol smirked. “Liar.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

He regretted it the next day.

A litany of curses left his mouth as he tried to climb out of bed the next morning. He’d slept with one leg curled up, and trying to straighten it and make it bear weight was like pulling teeth without Novocain.

He looked his bruises over in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. A couple bruises were developing, one on his shoulder, one on his ribs, another on his side, a couple inches below the one on his ribs. And then there was the florid welt blooming in the crook of his left elbow. It hurt to bend and he could swear he still felt his hand tingling.

He got to campus and made it all the way to the building for his first class before remembering there were stairs he had to take to the third floor. Sure, he could have taken the elevator, but it was halfway across the building.

The stinging, burning pain of muscle soreness seemed to turn his legs to jell-o by the second floor. By the third floor, he could feel his eyes watering. Sitting in his Technology and Policy lecture was hell, but strangely enough the pain seemed to center him. It forced him to focus on the lesson in an effort to forget how much everything hurt.

So in the end, maybe it wasn’t so bad. He learned more about missile defense policy than he would have if he hadn’t been driven by his own masochistic tendencies.

* * *

Hux made it through late afternoon, although not without cursing himself internally throughout the day.

Sitting in Professor Daala’s lab after his lab hours, he tried to stretch, standing up from the uncomfortable bench stool and reaching for the ceiling. The action was accompanied by a nasty grinding and finally a pop in his shoulder, and he groaned with relief as some of the soreness dissipated.

There was a sound from the professor’s office and her chair wheeled into view of her open door. “That was disgusting. Please tell me you didn’t just crack your neck.”

“Sorry professor. Just my shoulder.”

Gingerly, he sat down and turned back to brainstorming for his senior design class. The group wasn’t meeting til later that week, but he wanted time to mull over his ideas. They had settled on development of a wheelchair with a seat lift, but they were trying to figure out what other useful things they could incorporate. He’d turned it over in his mind for days, coming up with quick sketches and plans for a walker and easy wheel locks that weren’t as tricky to work as brakes. One of his group members had mentioned the possibility of finding a way to go up stairs, but that seemed like it would be beyond the reach of their project.

His phone buzzed. Again. A couple minutes later, again. One more time for good measure. He dug it out and was unsurprised to find it was Carol.

_Ok I need to call in a favor pretty please_

_My car decided it hated me today, the engine was making weird sounds so I’ve got someone taking a look at it but could you pick me up from Millennium later?_

_Seriously I know you’re busy but this is kind of a problem and besides, Millennium is closer to the apartment than the garage and I’ll owe you one._

_On second thought call it repayment for that time I brought your charger to campus last semester when you forgot it and freaked out_

It was hard not to laugh at the texts.

_Can do. What time?_

A couple minutes of silence passed as he worked on another small sketch. Then a buzz.

_6:30, you’re the best_

* * *

It was in the middle of rush hour when Hux swung by Millennium to pick Carol up. He snagged the last empty parking spot, then glanced at the door. Nothing. Hux checked his phone.

_I’m going to be a bit late, was working a thing with Lucky. Come in and I’ll introduce you to Lando!_

He sighed and climbed out, wincing again. The soreness was really beginning to set in, and he knew the next day would be a nightmare. Two days after a workout was always the worst, and this was shaping up to be a right bitch.

He ducked inside quickly, out of the light rain. The bell jingled as he opened the door, but it seemed to be a regular enough occurrence that nobody commented. There were a couple of glances toward the door, but nothing much. There were some people that appeared to be waiting for a group class, mostly women, gathered close to a wall of small shoe-lockers. A few people were scattered across the gym, working with free weights or on machines, while a pair of guys were working in the ring with a coach.

The first guy wore a determined grimace behind his headgear, with a solid stance that worked for a stocky, muscle bound frame. Hux might have called him barrel chested, but it wasn’t a bad thing. He looked like more than a match for the second, who was much taller but not nearly so much muscle. He kept low, waiting for the right moment and coming in with short, quick jabs that didn’t connect often, but when they did Hux could see the force behind him.

The second guy was taller and leaner, but it became apparent that it worked well for him when he nailed the first man with a solid kick, while staying mostly out of the range of his jabs. The second man wore a red bandanna under his headgear, flattening most of his dark hair. When he landed the kick, the first man took a couple steps back and barely caught the punches that followed it up. Hux realized the second guy’s blows had more power behind them than he’d previously thought. In between strikes, he dropped low, hunching broad shoulders to hide behind a loose guard.

“Kylo, stop dropping your left!” The coach to the side of the ring yelled into the bout.

Hux looked back to the match, somewhat intrigued as he realized the second guy was the one Carol had talked to outside of Chalmun’s. Apparently tall, dark, and creepy was tall, lean, and not too bad looking without the freaky helmet.

The first man went for a hook, but Kylo dodged and dropped, going in for a leg and pulling up as he grabbed. The other man went down to the mat and Kylo shoved his forearm into his windpipe, pinning him to the floor.

Something in the back of Hux’s mind seemed to latch on, and he saw the action repeat itself slowly in his mind’s eye. Then the first man tapped out and the second let go. Hux quickly looked away as they both climbed to their feet, but his eyes flicked back to the taller of the two, just for a moment.

A moment too long, apparently. Kylo looked toward the door and met his eyes.

Hux blinked, caught staring, and averted his eyes slowly, as though he’d been looking past the man the whole time. They were far enough apart, hopefully he wouldn’t notice. He stared at the wall, a little above the man’s head, where a banner listing the dates of a number of fights was hung. The man continued glaring at him, and Hux could feel the chill that broke across his skin. Right, time to go for broke.

He squinted a little, letting his gaze slide up enough that he was more obviously looking at something above the man’s head, holding his eyes there until Kylo turned to look behind himself. Hux watched him spot the banner and relax, a bit of the angry hunch of his shoulders gone.

He squared off with the first man again, and out of the corner of his eye Hux saw them start back up. It didn’t last long. Kylo went in with a sweep and caught him, flipping him to the floor, throwing his leg over his neck, and pinning him with an arm lock.

“Come on Zeroes, you know better than to give him that opening!”

A hand landed on Hux’s shoulder and he started, spinning to find Carol grinning at him. “Thanks for coming by! Here, come on, I should introduce you to Coach Calrissian.”

He followed her toward the ring. “Is the banner up there his?” Kylo seemed to be engrossed in his bout again, but what the hell. Hux was genuinely curious, having spent the time reading the damn thing.

“Hm? Oh yeah, he was a national welterweight contender. Four times? Five? Something like that.”

She led him over to the man at the edge of the ring, the one who had been yelling. He was and older black man, somewhere in his late middle-age, and although he was greying, his grip was strong. Hux held his eyes and shook his hand firmly, finding that a friendly smile split the man’s face. “Call me Lando, nice to meet you! Carol’s talked about you.”

“Oh? Nothing too bad, I hope.”

“What, Carol? Of course not. Although,” the man gave him a solid once over, “she wasn’t kidding when she said you were skinny. I thought she was exaggerating but man, you’re built like a drainage pipe. Eat a burger sometime, kid.”

Hux turned to glare at her and she shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to help, but thanks.”

“I’m kidding! But you’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Hux couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. The hair on the back of his neck pricked up with a surreal sense of awareness.

Carol didn’t seem to notice. “He’s got a great reach, Coach. And he fenced, his footwork can’t be that bad. I bet you could teach him a thing or two.”

He spun on her, irritated. “You’re not pushing me into another sport!”

“Hey, if you drop out of fencing you’re still going to need to burn off all that steam!” She held her hands up defensively as they headed for the door.

“Come on, come at me then!” Without thinking, he dropped into a lazy en garde, barely bent. Carol went to jokingly push his shoulder, but he’d been there, done that with her a hundred times. Muscle memory kicked in and he feinted, shifting out of the way as she adjusted and nailing her in the gut with a light jab.

It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but Carol’s face lit up and she laughed with surprise and nearly dropped her bag. “See! I told you getting back into things would be good for you.”

“Yeah, shhh, we’ll see how it goes. Come on.” He grabbed her backpack as they walked toward the door.

There was a solid thump behind them and Lando yelled, “Kylo, I told you to stop dropping your left!”

Carol glanced back and made a face. “Ooof. That’s gonna suck.”

“You know what sucks?”

“What?”

“Having your roommate push you back into a sport you quit. My legs are killing me. I can barely walk.”


	4. Footwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, this is a reminder from your friendly author that consent is important and you should not be taking your romantic cues from fanfic. _Especially_ kylux. Because they're a goddamn trainwreck.

Kylo told himself he’d brought him up to try and distract her. Yes. That was exactly why he asked about him. No ulterior motives.

“Carol, your boyfriend is so skinny, Jesus.”

The comment completely failed to distract her. She nailed the full set of drills on the heavy bag before speaking. “One, not my boyfriend. Two, you noticed?” She took a step back and gulped a breath. “My bicep is bigger than his thigh.”

It dragged an uncharacteristic laugh from him. “Really?”

“Man, I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised. He works out but I can’t get him to put any muscle on.” She went on the defense, shifting as he gave the bag a shove and forced her to start moving around it. Her footwork was steadily improving, placing her in the proper place to land a solid strike far more often. “But what I said before, you noticed?” She grinned.

“What? No, not like that.”

“I could introduce you, you know. If you’re interested. Was actually trying to do that the other night, but you had things to do, places to be and all.”

“Nah, you know he’s probably not…”

“He’s not straaaaaaight.” Her face split into a knowing smile.

Kylo blinked with surprise, but managed to hide his expression as he gave the bag another shove and forced her to focus on her footwork to keep the right distance. “Oh?”

She danced around the bag for a minute, not replying until she’d finished the set and the bag had mostly stopped swinging. “Well, he’s seen guys before, at least he’s bi. If you’re interested…”

Kylo’s mind ‘nope nope nope’d away from that kind of dangerous territory. Better not to even consider the possibility. He brushed the comment off as casually as he could. “Hah, no. I’ll pass.”

He almost sighed with relief when he handed her off to Lucky to work drills on the mat and spar a bit. The whole thing shouldn’t have put him on edge as much as it did, but there was something about her roommate he couldn’t shake.

It didn’t help that the redhead showed up at Millennium again once he’d warmed up and started working drills with Zeroes. When he spotted her roommate, Kylo would’ve sworn he was staring at him from across the room. He very nearly got decked for the distraction, but he came back around, giving Zeroes grief for completely missing the punch shield.

Zeroes stopped for a water break, Kylo stripped off the training gear and cursed himself internally for forgetting Carol’s car was still in the shop. Subtlety wasn’t one of his stronger suits, but he managed to observe the redhead out the corner of his eye. Besides, if he got caught staring, they would be even, right? He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that the redhead had been watching him, even though there was something a bit off about his thousand yard stare.

The redhead looked around the gym, hovering by one of the benches near the door. Even if he hadn’t been surrounded by a group of women, ranging from teenagers to middle-aged mothers, he’d have stood out. His hair was almost hilariously bright amidst the crowd of blonde and brown. Kylo watched him for a minute as he checked his phone. Just as he’d thought. He was distracted, self-absorbed, all the adjectives Kylo had used to try to convince himself he wasn’t interested.

Chewie walked past him from the office, unshaved legs and beard in hilarious counterpoint to his running shorts, which were just short enough to be funny, but long enough to keep his junk in control.

There was a twitter of excitement from part of the waiting group, and Kylo nearly laughed at the expression on the redhead’s face. It was a running joke how Chewie had found himself in this situation. He’d taken on Lucky’s Booty Boot Camp one day when she was sick. He refused to tone it down, but used humor to try and break the monotony and distract the participants from how much the workout sucked. It was unconventional, but it worked. To Lando’s surprise, rather than having a ridiculous number of dropouts, there was an influx of people scrambling to sign up for the class. Somewhere between the incomprehensible accent, the unconventional look, and the ridiculously enthusiasm, he’d gotten fantastic reviews.

These days, he co-led one class a week for shits and giggles. He headed toward the studio and waved the crowd to follow him, and Carol’s roommate looked up in surprise as people pushed past him.

He was left in the mostly empty training room with no one but Carol’s roommate and Zeroes, who dejectedly filled his water bottle up at the fountain.

The tentative smile the redhead turned Kylo’s direction bolstered his confidence. There was no reason to be worried about him, definitely not. Despite the look he’d gotten the other day at Chalmun’s and the deadpan stare from the day before, the man was hardly a threat. He was moderately tall, but still slightly shorter than Kylo and absurdly thin. Not that it mattered, of course. He was simply sizing the man up, like he would an opponent in the ring.

Kylo took a deep breath, willing his shoulders to relax, his stance radiating confidence as he walked over. This guy was no one in particular, just someone he hadn’t met yet. A potential friend. One of Carol’s friends, Carol was cool, surely her friends were too? That seemed like a safe enough introduction. “You’re Carol’s friend, yeah?”

The redhead stood up, although it was more like he unfolded. Like a lawn chair, bars all held together by the fabric around them. He nodded as he pocketed his phone, holding out his other hand. “Yeah, name’s Hux, we’re roommates. And you’re…Kylo, right? Carol’s mentioned you before.”

_Ignoring your question,_ he thought. “Haven’t heard that name before.”

The man grimaced. “Not my first name, it’s just the sort of decision you make when your parents name you Brendol Hux Jr.” He paused, then smiled again, rather awkwardly. “I’m sorry, it was rude of me to assume…”

“Yeah. It’s Kylo. Kylo Ren-Solo.” The bitter taste of his name still hadn’t faded, likely never would, but he’d settled into the sting of it. There was a sense of guilt that had overwhelmed him when he’d considered dropping his last name entirely, so it’d stuck.

Hux’s eyebrows rose. “And you thought _my_ name was out there.”

“Yeah, except that’s not my given name either. But I went through the legal hurdles of a name change.”

Hux nodded and seemed to search for another topic. “So…you’re one of Carol’s coaches, yeah?”

“Sort of. We’re pretty self-taught around here. Other than the classes, we train each other.” Kylo shrugged. “Most everyone helps with the new people, and when it’s all said and done people fall into patterns.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

Silence grew between them for a moment, as the man looked to Chewie and Lucky’s class. His eyes widened and he stared openly as Chewie started up the music and led the class with her. A weird urge to laugh grew in Kylo’s chest as he watched Hux stare with something between shock and awe.

His eyes were as pale as they’d looked through the window of the bar, odd enough to garner immediate attention with the rest of his coloring. His skin was so light he could see the blood vessels in his neck straight through it, and his entire stance was uptight and poised. Exacting. Controlled. No, scratch that, in control.

_Carol lives with this guy?_ He could hardly imagine how that had happened. Carol was all over the place, this guy looked like he would lose his mind if someone so much as left dishes in the sink.

“That…is something I never thought I’d live to see.” Hux’s eyes opened marginally wider as Chewie lead warmup stretches. It wasn’t every day one saw a six-foot-odd guy in Adidas running shorts do full splits.

This time, Kylo couldn’t keep a small smile from his face. “Same with most of the people in the class. There’s a pretty high demand for slots in the sessions Chewie leads.”

“’Chewie’?” he asked.

“I can’t even say his real name, it’s unpronounceable without a thick accent. He’s originally Russia. Well. We think. He moved here from…Belarus? Bulgaria? I can’t actually remember. Lando’s known him forever, as far as I know he’s been around here since the seventies. Used to train some of our best competitors, but he has his fun these days doing…that.”

Hux snorted and continued to watch, his expression somewhere between fascination and horror.

“Aha! The two of you have finally met!” The awkward silence was broken as Carol came out of the locker room, her hair slicked down with water from the shower. She turned to Kylo. “Excellent! Hey, I was thinking about bringing him to Lando’s tonight for the potluck. Think that’d be alright?”

Kylo kept a straight face but fought the urge to turn on her and ask her what the hell she was thinking. His gut reaction was no, it wasn’t alright. No, this guy was trouble, he was altogether too severe looking and put together to pull him into the usual relaxed potluck environment. No, there were half a dozen other reasons why not, he just needed more time to come up with them. No.

He nodded. “Double check with Lando, but yeah.”

With a bright smile, she dashed toward the office, leaving them in awkward silence again. He thanked his lucky stars she was back in less than a minute, giving them a thumbs up. She grabbed Hux, who shot Kylo a look of resignation, and dragged him out the door.

“We’ll see you tonight then!”

* * *

After the gym, Kylo spent the afternoon making dishes for the potluck. Hearty food, the kind that you craved after watching your diet and working out all week, was the best possible potluck food. He threw a potato bake together, then started dicing peppers and onions for dip. As much as he detested his uncle Luke, Kylo appreciated the push he’d given him. The summer he’d started as a busboy at his uncle’s place in upstate New York had been hellish, and he’d wanted nothing more than to work in the kitchen instead. Luke had taught him a couple things, but when he’d shown real aptitude for it, he’d refused to let him do anything but bus tables.

The bitterness still stung, but if Kylo was driven by anything, he was driven by spite. He’d taught himself, and a couple years later when he clashed with his uncle for the last time, he walked out.

It was almost therapeutic, standing at the counter with a knife, following a pattern he knew like the back of his hand. It was easy, it was familiar, and it let him feel in control. Headphones kept him distracted and let him work without his mind wandering.

* * *

The party started off well enough, things seeming to go as usual. Kylo thought he’d hidden his thoughts well, but after a couple hours Lucky grabbed his arm, towing him toward the kitchen. “Can I talk to you a second?”

“What’s up?”

“Ah, the new guy. Carol said he’s bi.”

The words didn’t seem to mean anything new. “Yeah?”

“I’m just giving you fair warning. I’ve seen the way you look at him. If you don’t make a move, I will.”

He gaped at her for a second. “What?”

“I’ve warned you, you’ve got til the end of the night.”

He cleared his throat. “It’s nothing to me.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Either way, I’ve warned you. If you don’t make a move, I will.”

She raised her cup to him in an imitation of cheers and strolled out of the kitchen.

Well. It wasn’t like he cared. Lucky could have him. Hux wasn’t his type anyway. He looked like a pushover and everything about him was too meticulous.

He poured himself another drink.

* * *

Kylo’s resolve lasted another twenty minutes as he watched the way Hux fit in with the rest of the group. He seemed to talk to everyone with relative ease, and after a couple drinks, his precise demeanor seemed to slip as he unwound a bit.

He half-leaned, half-sat on the arm of one of Lando’s chairs, listening raptly to the older man. There was a mild smile on his face, something that cracked a bit wider every once in awhile as Lando related yet another ridiculous mess he’d gotten himself into in his youth. Admittedly, Lando almost always got himself out of the trouble he got into, but the stories were usually ridiculous enough to draw a laugh from a listener.

Hux took it all in, smiling and laughing at all the right times, something Kylo hated him for. The bastard had even worn a nice button-up, a deep blue that set his hair off like fire. Kylo considered it for a moment, taking in the close fit of it, the rolled sleeves, and the undone buttons at the collar. It looked completely casual, even unintentional, but it had to have been calculated. It was disgustingly pretentious and slightly unkempt all at the same time, and the end result was horribly attractive.

Kylo took a deep breath and threw back the last inch of his drink. _Shit._ He was actually going to do this, wasn’t he? It wasn’t like he hadn’t chatted plenty of guys up. And this time, he already had confirmation that Hux wasn’t straight. So at least he didn’t have to play the game of trying to figure out if he might be interested.

“Hey, look out for the slobber monster, I’m letting her in!” Lucky yelled through the kitchen.

Kylo watched as Lando’s dog, made her way into the living room and wandered about. She came up behind Hux and nudged his hand.

He turned and the change in his expression was immediate. Hux went from relaxed and cool to crooning over the giant dog, “Hellooo, what’s your name? Agh look at the size of you, you’re beautiful.”

Lando took one look at him and laughed. “I take it you’re a dog person?”

Carol grinned. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

Kylo felt like his chest was going to burst. He had to be drunk, to feel this attracted to Hux. Because of course Hux was a dog person. Not just a dog person, but a huge dork when it came to dogs. Did this asshole have any real flaws?

Hux let the dog, a massive Great Dane, grey and covered with darker spots that made her look like cookies and cream ice cream, push up against him. Carol found herself holding his cup as Hux went down for the count, enthralled with the dog as he scratched behind her ears.

Kylo bolstered himself and eased his way into the conversation. “That’s Noodles.”

Hux beamed up at him, mindless of the drool that was dripping on the lower leg of his slacks. “Oh, she’s gorgeous.”

“She’s not the only gorgeous thing here.” The words were out before Kylo could stop them.

Hux’s eyes shot open for a second and he gaped up at him. Lando and Carol started and stared as well.

Kylo ducked his head and took another gulp of his drink, glad he’d refilled it. He looked around at the people staring at him as alarms went off in his head and he wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor and disappear. “What? Was that too much? It’s the booze talking, sorry. It was supposed to be a joke.”

They both turned to Hux, who had recovered and appeared entirely nonplussed. “What?”

Carol looked between the two of them, then burst into laughter. “Someday I’ll smack the both of you, good lord. You’re nightmares.”

And that was it. Carol provided enough of a distraction for Kylo to slip back to the kitchen, his heart pounding in his chest with the sort of adrenaline he was used to in a fight, the sort that made his pulse thrum under his skin nervously.

Maybe it was the alcohol. He wouldn’t admit it, but he could handle a lot less than he pretended. In part, his comment had been the rum speaking. The other part of it had been the way he wore his heart on his sleeve, the part of him that was willing to put himself out there and give it a shot. It could have been a worse rejection, he supposed. It had been almost gentle in comparison to some. But it still stung.

The kitchen felt claustrophobic, too small by half. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stay here around other people, like this. He couldn’t do it.

He slipped outside.

* * *

His garage was an easy refuge. He found himself working on the old Honda he was restoring for a client, drinking another beer. Engines were easy. Engines were straightforward, metal and oil and moving parts but they didn’t shift and change like people did. For the most part, they did exactly what they were supposed to, how they were supposed to, and if they didn’t there was something wrong and they wouldn’t work. Engines were predictable, unlike people.

Kylo worked to change out the coils of the 1965 Honda CA77, finding peace in the task. He’d done diagnostics on the ignition a couple days before and found that most of the coils had aged badly, somewhat exposed to the elements over time. He replaced them one by one, the lighting and charging coil, the signal coil, the exciter coil. Time seemed to blur, measured in occasional sips of his drink and the parts slipping into place.

As he worked to fasten the exciter coil, there was a rap on the door frame and the sound of an opening door. “Kylo?”

“Yeah, back here. What’s up?”

“Lucky said you might be back…” there was a hiss of breath as he stepped into the garage. “Ohh.”

Kylo didn’t turn to look, not from where he was leaned in on the CA77, trying to stay focused. The exciter coil needed to be finished. He wasn’t moving til it was done. It didn’t matter who it was, he had something he needed to do. “Did you need something?”

He knew full well it was Hux.

“Is that a C66?”

“A CA77, but close. I’m refurbishing it. ‘S for a friend, I’m not a Honda person myself.” He tried to keep his breaths even and slow even as his heart pounded at his ribs. _Don’t look, don’t look at him, you’re just going to end up fucking things up again._

“The 8 Ball by the door, is that yours?”

Hux knew a decent bit about bikes, at least enough to recognize the model of the Victory. Kylo felt his heart thump restlessly in his chest a bit longer before he managed to swallow the emotions. _Goddamn it._ Someone had put Hux on this earth simply to curb-stomp his heart. “Yeah.” He’d finished installing the exciter coil, and he couldn’t bring himself to pretend he was still working. He looked up to find Hux circling his bike and eyeing it up, no longer close to the door.

“Oh wow, it’s beautiful.” Hux’s eyes were alight. “Mind if I take a closer look?”

Kylo made a vague motion with his hand, granting permission nervously. He observed as passively as he could, fighting to stay nonchalant. Having someone else in his workspace put him on edge, and having Hux this close made his skin crackle with nerves.

Hux’s hands, thin and pale, ran over the graceful lines of the casement and engine as he squatted down to get a better look. He tossed the occasional question at Kylo, who answered almost reluctantly. If someone had asked, he never would have given Hux credit as a mechanic, but here the bastard was, proving him wrong. He put his drink on the floor next to the bike, completely absorbed by the metal guts of the beast.

A strange sense of anxiety gripped Kylo, like exposing the Victory to this man, an outsider, was tantamount to treason. Something about Hux poking about in the innards of his bike put him on edge. Even worse was the way his pants were pulled distractingly tight as he stooped low, digging the pit of anxiety deeper in Kylo’s stomach. He didn’t even realize he was looking for approval until Hux whistled and stretched for a moment, all wiry limbs and admiration.

Relief flooded him.

“This is beautiful. You rebuild all of these yourself?” Hux pointed at the wall, where Kylo had pinned final pictures of his other restoration projects.

“Have you worked on a Victory before?”

Hux paused and visibly adjusted his train of thought as his question was met with another question. “Nah, I've been interested for years but my experience is rather narrow. My grandfather used to have an old 1963 BSA Super Rocket. Salvaged what we could from that one, its road-worthy days were over anyway. We rebuilt it from the ground up, my father and I.” Hux looked a bit lost at that, the first real crack in his armor Kylo had seen. Still, he decided not to pursue it. Besides, most of his attention was taken up by the growing need to haul the man close and break that careful control. He’d butchered the conversation inside with a stupid joke, sure. But Hux had followed him out, surely that was interest, at the very least? And he was close, painfully close, so near Kylo could reach out and touch him. As his expression seemed to clear he looked to Kylo and his eyes widened at the proximity.

So Kylo made a move, uncertainty be damned.

The first touch of lips was Kylo’s doing, tentative and nervous. There was a long moment as Hux stared at him openly again, as though startled. But once Kylo took the step to start things, Hux _claimed_. One hand caught Kylo’s jaw, the other wrapped around the back of his neck, dragging him down and crashing their lips together dizzyingly. Somewhere through the haze, Kylo let go of control, ceding it without complaint.

Hux’s hands ran up under his shirt and he felt like his whole body was shot through with electricity. _Holy fuck his hands are cold,_ ran through his mind, although the thrill of static under his skin didn’t seem to be entirely from the chill.

To his surprise, Hux was more solid than he looked. He let Kylo steer him back against the workbench, but he certainly wasn’t a pushover. The realization was like a bolt of heat straight to Kylo’s stomach, a pang he recognized as pure, unadulterated _want_.

He wanted to know exactly what Hux hid behind that careful control, the façade that had slowly started to fracture. He wanted to see the thoughts laid out bare in Hux’s expression, and he followed his first instinct as he tried to make the man fall apart.

Kylo fumbled with Hux’s belt and button and zipper, his fingers working with slightly less than their usually perfect dexterity. Hux was starting to unravel, and even as Kylo dropped down on his knees, he wanted to figure out what made Hux tick. His eyes closed, his coppery hair was mussed, and splotches of red started to appear high on his cheeks. Kylo wanted to disassemble him piece by piece. He wanted to watch that composure slowly crumble as he lost control, down to the last carefully held thread.

As Kylo’s lips pressed to pale skin, he followed the slightest trail down into the waistband of his pants until Hux gasped a breath. Kylo looked up to find him looking down, his eyes blown wide, mouth slightly slack. Every previous experience he’d had told him he’d cornered Hux, he had him in the palm of his hand (figuratively, if not yet literally).

Instead, he found himself dragged away as Hux’s hand caught in his hair, firmly pulling Kylo’s head back as he leaned forward to catch his lips. Hux tipped his chin up into the kiss, dragging the breath from his lungs, turning the tables on him and straight-up _consuming_ him. It was like a burn, and Kylo’s self-destructive side relished it.

The hand in his hair was unyielding, and the hand that caught the side of his face was calloused and entirely unlike what Kylo had been expecting.

Hux’s lips finally broke from his and Kylo found himself staring up at him. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat like a hammer striking another nail in his coffin. This, whatever this was, would bury him alive and he was ready for it.

What he wasn’t ready for was for Hux’s expression to shift to abject panic, or for him to break away, grabbing and fixing his pants as he rushed to the door.

He certainly wasn’t ready for the crippling blow a second rejection seemed to land, splintering through his chest.

Kylo stared at the door, completely at a loss.


	5. Corps-à-corps

Hux would never admit it, but he didn’t just refuse Kylo's advances. He ran, and in the end, he was glad he did.

The blur of alcohol wasn’t near enough to genuinely impair him, but it was enough to lower his inhibitions when Kylo had kissed him. His response was entirely his own, and he very nearly went along with it when Kylo made a go for his pants simply because the voice in the back of his head didn’t ask ‘why not?’. Kylo was attractive, if unconventional and frankly kind of odd, but not in a bad way.

Kylo didn’t take control, but shifted him in suggestions, a gentle push against his shoulder, a nudge at his hip. Hux could feel it even through the haze, and he took the direction without question until he found himself backed against the workbench

His brain caught up with his body a moment after Kylo went down on his knees, working at the button and zipper. The moment seemed to freeze like a snapshot, Kylo pressing his lips to his hip, looking up at him from hooded eyes…bleary eyes that were very much under the influence.

The decision-making bit at the back of his mind made a last-ditch effort to stop where this was going. Kylo had to be drunk, hell, he himself was probably drunk and his brain hadn’t caught up yet. This wouldn’t have happened if he’d been watching what he was doing. The realization struck him and he knew the direction this was going. Panic slapped him like the snap of a rubber band against his consciousness and he hauled Kylo back, pressing another kiss to his lips. He wanted so much more, but not like this. Not like this.

He made a desperate grab and tried to fasten his pants before running. Rushing through the yard toward the road, he used an app on his phone to call for a ride as he fled. His skin seemed to burn with the echoes of touches he shouldn’t have let happen.

His mind couldn’t quite process everything. He tried to parse it all piece by piece. Carol was right, Kylo wasn’t just ‘interested’. He was interested enough to very nearly give him a drunken blowjob the first time he had him alone. It might have felt more complimentary if his mind hadn’t reeled fearfully away from the thought of a one night stand.

Something, somewhere in the back of his mind, screamed angrily at his own rejection. Kylo wanted something from him, and had been quick to make a go for his pants. The image of him down on his knees seemed to be seared to his eyelids, and it came back every time he closed his eyes.

And shit if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

His mind was only half-focused when he met his ride, barely there as he paid, and gone by the time he stumbled into bed.

* * *

Hux woke up the next morning in his own bed, unsure how much of the night before had been remembered and how much had been a dream. He looked down at himself, still clothed as he’d been when he left Lando’s the night before. His mouth felt a bit bruised. Right, not a dream.

The memories slowly surfaced and he flung his pillow over his face, groaning. What a colossal fuck up. Kylo would hate his guts by now, no doubt. He’d stopped him, yes, but even taking things that far…he was older, he knew better, and Carol had mentioned in passing that Kylo was a lightweight. Of course he’d been drunk, why would he even be interested if Hux didn’t seem like an easy lay?

Embarrassment took over. Hux couldn’t think things through like this. He hauled himself out of bed and slouched his way to the shower, forcing himself to drink an entire glass of water and desperately praying he wouldn’t get hit with a wave of nausea. Sweats and a comfy hoodie were a much better choice after. He was still a bit hung over, but at least it was an improvement.

He went to the kitchen, rifling through the fridge and hunting for eggs. The slide of the Styrofoam carton in his hand was disgusting, and seemed to grind away at his headache. Once a pan was heating on the stove, he filled the electric kettle and dug out some ginger tea, still internally cursing his own stupidity.

There was a thump from the other room and a string of curses in a bleary female voice. He listened to see if there was one or two or…whatever. He sighed, wondering if he was going to be making breakfast for more than two people.

Carol was…Carol. There wasn’t anyone quite like her. He certainly wasn’t one to judge. Carol did what (and who) Carol wanted, so long as the other person was interested as well. She’d brought back girls and she’d brought back guys, and there was one time that came to mind that she brought back a girl and a guy, and the noise had been so loud he’d invested in noise cancelling headphones.

They’d hooked up once, years ago now. Thank goodness they’d both recognized almost instantly on that they were looking for different things, and broken it off. Carol liked whoever she liked. Hux didn’t know what the hell to call himself, despite his attraction to both guys and girls it was only certain people. There were certain things about people that seemed to throw him into a spiraling pit of pathetic pining, something he hated about himself. He craved a relationship but he didn’t have the time for one. It was appalling.

He was halfway through frying a second egg when he heard the squeak of Carol’s bedroom door opening. He knew better than to turn around and find out if anyone had come home with her. She grumbled, “Aw, shit that’s bright,” and there was a bit of noise before she seemed to come back.

He didn’t turn around. “Eggs?”

“Hm, yes please.”

“Toast?”

“Uhuh.”

Aha. He nearly smirked with satisfaction. She sounded worse than him. Of course, that was one of the few things he had on her: she could drink nearly anything, but sugar gave her a bitch of a hangover. Hah. Served her right for plying him with mixed bullshit. “Anyone else?”

“Nope, I’ve got a strict rule against sleeping with anyone from Millennium. Too messy.”

Hux finished the first couple eggs and tossed them on a plate with toast, dropping it in front of her and taking her whole look in while trying not to laugh. She sat at the counter, hunkered over with her massive grey microfleece blanket wrapped about her like a cape. The sunlight coming through the kitchen blinds had proven to be too much for her, and she’d donned a pair of sunglasses to lessen it. He was halfway through cooking the next set of eggs when Carol cleared her throat. “Speaking of anyone else…”

“Hmm?”

“You’re home already.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I figured you’d stay at Kylo’s.”

Hux paused for a beat, then recovered and feigned innocence. “Oh? Why?”

“You’re joking, right? He’s been sizing you up since you picked me up from the gym.”

The tightness in the back of his throat very nearly strangled his words. He fought to keep the spatula in his hand from shaking as he turned another egg, trying to pretend nothing had happened. “We’ve hardly talked, other than last night.”

She groaned and put her face in her hands where she sat at the counter. “What do I have to do to get the two of you to just…try something already?”

“What, you’ve been trying to get us together?” He said it with such sincerity that Carol somehow missed the sarcasm.

“You were blabbing about Noodles so fast I could hardly even follow and he freaking turned tail and ran after he pulled that shitty pickup line nonsense. I could’ve sworn something would happen when you walked out to go ‘check on him’,” she even put air quotes around it for emphasis, the nerve. “The poor guy was practically drowning looking at you.” The statement was accompanied by her waving a fork about for emphasis.

To Hux’s credit, his expression didn’t change. The flush in his cheeks, though, was impossible to hide. Carol sopped egg up with a piece of toast, grumbling for a minute before looking up and pointing at him with her fork, then stopping dead at the blush splashed across his face.

She pulled her sunglasses down and squinted at him for a second to verify she wasn’t seeing things, and then her eyes widened as things slowly clicked together. “Tell me you at least kissed him.”

“To my drunken shame, yes.”

“Aha!” she crowed in triumph. “Aaaaand?”

“…and I wouldn’t 100% object to doing so again. If he were sober. As it was…I think I,” the words were disgusting in his mouth, “took advantage of him being drunk.”

Her expression was conflicted, somewhere between triumph and disappointment that nothing else had happened. "Look, I’m sure he’s fine. And I’ll accept it as a step in the right direction. You’re going to see him again when…?”

“We, uh, didn’t make any plans. As of this morning, he probably hates me.”

“Oh for the love of god.” Carol crossed her arms and collapsed down onto the counter. She popped her head up to glare at him and say, “Do I have to do everything for you two useless disasters?” before flopping back down dramatically.

“Look, he’d had too much to drink, he probably hates me by now. I barely even know the guy...”

“I don’t think that would stop him.”

He turned to the kettle and took his time pouring water and opening the tea bag, praying desperately that the blush would fade. _It certainly hadn’t stopped him._

“How about this, come with me to the tournament next weekend. It’s a full day of running around, and it’s only my second real fight. You come to support me, and he’ll be there too, you can talk to him at the very least.”

“Look, I don’t think…”

“Come for my sake. Please?” She looked up at him from where she sat at the counter, giving him a pathetic look.

He sighed. Of course she would use the puppy eyes. “Alright, but I’m not promising anything.”

“Yes!” She punched the air. “Now could you be the best and close the goddamn blinds? I’m dying here.”

* * *

A couple cups of tea quelled his turning stomach and eased his headache somewhat. The hangover faded a bit, but trying to push Kylo out of his head was easier said than done. Every time he closed his eyes he could see him, like snapshots his brain had inconveniently decided to preserve.

The remainder of the day passed in a slightly hungover blur of schoolwork. There was research to be done for a policy proposal, drafts of designs to crank through, and a problem set for his Advanced Fluid Dynamics class. He was seated at his desk, forcing himself to drink an entire bottle of water and get through another set of data for Professor Daala when his phone buzzed, and continued buzzing. He glanced at the name that popped up and nervousness gripped him. “Hello?”

“Brendol, sweetheart, you are the worst at contacting your father back.”

He took a deep breath and pushed back in his chair, stretching. “Hey mum.”

“Do you have time to talk? Or are you out running yourself ragged as you always seem to?”

“I’ve got time, just working on some homework. What’s up?”

“I haven’t talked to you much this semester, and your father hardly at all. So I thought I’d call. Tell me how things are going.”

“The usual. Classes are kind of crazy, I’m hunting for a job. Oh, and I joined the fencing team, for some ridiculous reason.”

“Really? I thought you were done with the sport. Something about certain people being…what was the term you used…”

Hux remembered the conversation with painful clarity. The phrase she was pretending not to remember was ‘pretentious douchebags’, and he was thankful she faked ignorance. “Right. Well, they’re a club, it’s not a NCAA team or anything. Carol sort of pushed me into it.”

“I always said you should keep fencing. It’s good for you. I’ll have to tell her thank you next time I see her.”

“Don’t encourage her.”

“Sweetheart, it’s good to hear that you’ve gotten back to it. I don’t want to hear about your grades dropping because you’re in a sport, but yes. I think it’s excellent. Besides, if it’s a club sport, you should be comfortable fencing just about everyone on that level.”

“You’d be surprised how rusty I am.”

She laughed on the other end of the line. “I’m sure you’ll brush the rust off quickly. You were always quick on the uptake.”

They talked awhile longer before his mother finally let him go. Hux sighed with relief and dove back into the data.

* * *

By midafternoon, he wasn’t feeling too bad. The weather was decent, and he felt guilty for skipping his usual Saturday morning run.

The focus he’d managed while slogging through the problem set had vanished. His mind was driven to distraction, and if he’d been paying a bit more attention he would have seen the divot in the sidewalk. A three inch gap of messed up concrete. It was such a small thing, but it managed to end his week on a sour note.

Carol came home to find him sitting on the couch with his computer, an ice pack on his ankle and a sour look on his face. “What happened?”

“Rolled my ankle out running.”

He lifted the ice and the dish rag and she grimaced. “That’s going to swell.”

“No shit. It’s already gross.”

“At least it’s not purple.”

He flopped back onto the couch, grabbed the pillow next to him, and yelled into it. When he’d finished, she heard a muffled, “I hate everything.”

“Aw, don’t say that. Do you hate me?”

Still muffled. “…no.”

* * *

The week passed with little of note. Hux felt like everything was hanging over his head, dragging him down slowly. Hux’s life was routine, methodical to a T. Outside of his small circle of friends, people saw him as efficient and straightforward, if a bit cold. Then again, most of them had never seen him around Carol. She really did bring out the worst in him. His weekends, when she was around, were shot to hell.

Usually his start to the day was straightforward. Wake up, run a couple miles if he was up early enough, turn the coffee maker on as he came in from his run, and shower. The tang of fresh coffee greeting him when he made it to the kitchen, hair still wet. Breakfast, get ready for the day, pack books and lunch, and walk out the door to catch his bus. From there the days varied. Sometimes he had Tech Policy, sometimes he went straight to the lab to put in some hours for Professor Daala before class.

Things were routine, but for the little changes that cropped up.

Monday went by without a hitch, as did Tuesday. He texted Zare and told him about his ankle, and followed the captain’s orders to stay home and ice.

Wednesday was straightforward, but the feeling of apprehension seemed to grow by the day. Thursday was fine, but for the disquiet that ate away at him. There was a chance he bombed the quiz in Fluids, but it was impossible anyway, there was no way anyone passed it. He went to practice Thursday night, taking it a bit easy on his ankle. He made up for it by doing mostly bladework. If he hit a bit harder than usual, left a couple people with bigger bruises, well, who was going to ask?

Friday was…fine. It was fine, it really was. He woke up a bit later than usual, and the feeling of impending doom was nothing, an irritation he could handle. He could definitely handle it. He just needed more coffee.

The bus was late. For whatever reason, it was, and he rushed from his stop on campus toward the lab. He glanced down at his phone as he wove between cars. Of all the days to be close to late, today wasn’t a good one. Professor Daala was going to kill him.

He came up behind an empty car in the administrative building lot, walking toward the lab at full speed. The car door flung open and he reacted, sidestepping and very nearly avoiding being doored. He hissed as he stepped weird on his sore ankle, but he looked up and stopped dead as a man stepped out of the car, tiny and old and…shit.

President Snoke fixed him with a glare as he grabbed his briefcase, without a word of apology. Hux felt a spike of irritation. Oh sure, just because he was president of the university it was fine to nearly clock your students with a door and not apologize.

It was only as he walked away that it occurred to him how comical it all was. Snoke was so small he hadn’t been able to see him over the back of the driver’s seat. The entire incident was bizarre, and he felt like he was drifting for a large part of the remainder of the day.

* * *

Carol hauled his ass out of bed Saturday morning. It was a thoroughly unpleasant experience, trying to find clothes and food and brush his teeth and just get ready with Carol reminding him every couple minutes that they needed to get going.

It was only after he arrived with her that he found out the womens’ event was scheduled for Sunday. He blearily sipped coffee from his thermos and reflected on his life. She had dragged him up out of bed to watch a bunch of guys beat the shit out of each other, and while he was intrigued, he would have preferred another couple hours of sleep.

* * *

He amended that when Carol dragged him further forward through the crowd, closer to the ring where Lucky had waved them down for Kylo’s round.

Holy shit, Kylo was a _beast_.

Even before the fight started, Hux could see how lit up he was. He moved with a terrifying sort of energy, not the faintly bouncing warmup his opponent did, but with an air of barely restrained savagery. Hux could see his anticipation, the need to explode. It reminded him of every early college chemistry experiment, where the professor would drop something in a test tube and it would explode in a flash of light, or fizzle and scream.

At the beginning of the fight, Kylo moved slowly, that controlled power building gradually. His opponent was a lean sandy blonde with a shaved head, with a last name of Shepherd.

They circled each other like predators, Kylo’s movements deceptively slow as Shepherd’s footwork danced across the floor. Shepherd made a couple of experimental jabs that Kylo blocked.

When Kylo’s first real attack came, it was blindingly fast. He feinted, a right cross that Shepherd fell for, blocking his face. Kylo took the opening, closing on him and nailing him in the ribs with an uppercut before stepping back, nearly out of range as Shepherd caught him with a glancing punch that split his lip.

The other man grunted at the uppercut, a harsh, pained sound, but he recovered and retaliated before pulling back into his guard. They exchanged blows for another minute, the referee breaking them up twice. Kylo kept the other man at range, never letting him get close enough to grapple him to the ground, and it was clear it was finally beginning to wear on Shepherd.

That is, until Kylo went all-in.

He caught the other man, slamming him to his side. As he dropped down, bombarding the man with barely-blocked punches, Shepherd caught him with a leg and dropped him. They struggled, each hitting the other in any possible way. Neither came out well, but there was a crunch and a burst of blood, and the ref stopped the match.

Shepherd’s nose bled profusely, almost certainly broken. They called time, taking him to the corner to patch him up enough to continue. Kylo moved to his own corner, taking the water Lando proffered.

Lucky shook her head, frowning. “He let him too close. This guy is a grappler, he needs to keep him at distance.”

Carol took Lucky’s words as a cue. “Don’t let him in range!” she shouted, grabbing Kylo’s attention. His eyes flickered to Carol, angry as ever, then to Hux. For a moment, the world seemed to stop as Kylo’s eyes widened with disbelief.

If Hux hadn’t seen it himself, he wouldn’t have believed it, but Kylo’s body language abruptly changed. His shoulders hunched defensively and his expression changed from controlled anger to sheer rage.

Hux very nearly flinched. If they’d been closer, he would have. He could see Kylo fighting with himself, and it seemed as though he was trying to decide if he wanted to finish the fight or go beat the shit out of him. His stomach tightened nervously but he fought the urge to shrink and make himself smaller. _No, backing down won’t help._

He carefully fixed his expression into detached indifference and took slow, deep breaths, forcing himself to stand his ground until he was staring Kylo down across the room.

Apparently, his refusal to balk was enough to send Kylo into a seething rage. He spun back toward the octagon, looking for all the world as though he would kill someone, given the chance.

* * *

It didn’t last long after that. It turned out that Kylo losing control was a bad thing.

His defense loosened, and he took a couple of jabs before stumbling back out of range. His focus loosened and he made mistakes, keeping improper distance and moving too slow.

It only took one poorly timed kick for Shepherd to catch him and flip him, slamming him into the floor shoulder and neck first. Kylo let out a yell of pain, and there was a hiss from the crowd as everyone saw that something in his shoulder was out of place, maybe even broken. Shepherd shifted, pinning his good side in an arm lock.

Kylo tapped out.

It was over.

* * *

When they got down to the back room, Lucky negotiated with one of the trainers to let them out into the hall where they were seeing to Kylo. They were reluctant at first, but as they opened the door to ask, Lando saw Lucky and waved them in.

Hux hesitated. “I don’t think I should…”

Carol grabbed him and dragged him in behind her. Hux stuck to the back of the group as best as he could, not quite hidden behind Carol but certainly not the first one visible. The trainer moved Kylo’s shoulder about, trying to determine the problem.

Kylo spit his mouthpiece out, grimacing as the trainer manipulated the joint and waited for the spasms to slow.

“So, they figure out what’s wrong yet?” Lucky asked.

“Nah, hurts like a bitch but…” his eyes landed on Hux over Carol’s shoulder and his expression went livid. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Everyone stilled for a moment, then Hux broke the silence. “Well. Good to see you too.”

“Get the fuck out.”

Hux held up his hands and turned to go, but Carol grabbed his shoulder. “Wait.”

“I said get the f…AHH.” He turned to the trainer, expression vicious.

The other man just shrugged. “Dislocated. It’s back in place now. We’ll sling it, do some scans on Monday, and you should be alright. I’m going to go try to make sure Shepherd’s nose is properly set. Give me a yell if there’s anything else I need to look at.”

The tension in the air as he left was so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife.

Carol sighed. “Look, there’s clearly something going on here we don’t know about. You two talk it out like adults, and if either of you tries to kill the other, I’ll kick your ass myself. Clear?”

Kylo looked like he would spit. “Fine,” he snarled.

Once the others left, they stood there glaring for a solid minute, neither wanting to be the first to say something.

Hux eventually decided he would have to be the bigger man. “Look, I’d apologize but I think we were both at fault. So if like…half an apology would suffice, I’d do it.”

Kylo sat in the chair where the trainer had put him, glaring up at Hux with loathing like he’d never seen. Blood still trickled from his split lip, running into his mouth and down his chin. A muscle in his jaw pulsed as he stared Hux down. When he finally spoke, he gritted the words between clenched teeth. “You think this is my fault? Just leave already. I’m hating you more and more by the second.”

“Oh, of course, like you didn’t hate me already.” Hux sneered at him sarcastically, feeling a weird sense of pain in the back of his throat at the words. “Stop acting like a child and talk so we can both walk away from this in one piece. I live with Carol, that threat was real.”

Kylo scowled bitterly, sitting back down. “Too late for that.” The tension in his shoulders seemed to relax a bit at his own dry comment.

“Fine, somewhat in one piece.” Hux amended. “So, will you talk about this mess?” Hux waved his hand vaguely, finally recognizing that his own emotions were carrying over to his actions. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and forcing his arm back down to his side.

“It’s just a dislocation, it’s not a big deal…” Kylo grimaced as he inadvertently shifted, moving his arm a bit.

“You’re not the mess I was talking about,” Hux said. “Okay, hold on, that didn’t come out quite the way I meant. Your injury isn’t the mess I was talking about.”

Kylo glared at him resentfully. “Fine. Go for it.”

“I said talk, as in a discussion. I’m not going to stand here and monologue.”

“You seem like the monologuing type. Stuck up. Nobody’s good enough for you. Really egotistical. All that fun shit.”

“What is it with you and your friends trying to ‘type’ me?” Hux moved erratically in exasperation, carefully reestablished control blown to bits in the space of a moment. “You barely even know me and you pulled a stupid move, and while I’m here trying to work this out so you don’t regret the other night, you’re flinging insults at me?”

Kylo broke his gaze, looking at the floor and holding himself awkwardly with his shoulder. “I don’t regret the other night.”

Hux froze, looking at him warily. The words slid around in his head, finally sliding into place and making sense. “You were drunk.”

Kylo could only manage a one shouldered shrug, but it worked. “So?”

“That’s not…you weren’t…”

“I’d have made the same advance sober, but I figured you’d be less interested. And, you know. Liquid courage, right?” The strangled noise that left Kylo’s throat was reminiscent of a self-deprecating laugh.

“Why?” His feet carried him back and forth across the hall, pacing irritably as everything seemed to click into place. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling, but the only things he could really place were feelings of protectiveness and nervousness. Agitation took over.

Again, Kylo seemed defensive. He shook his head and said, “I’m not sure.”

Every instinct Hux had told him to run, that this could only lead to trouble. The fizzing feeling under his skin said otherwise, and he stopped in front of Kylo, looking down at him. “Then I don’t understand why you would…”

Kylo reached up and dragged him down to his level by the front of his shirt. Dark eyes stared him down, daring him to flinch away again. When he didn’t, Kylo gave him a reckless smile. “Me neither.”

Hux could taste blood, the metallic tang of Kylo’s split lip on his own lips. The back of his mind screamed that it was disgusting, but the rest of him didn’t care. A small part, a voice that he shoved into the far corner of his mind, screamed for more.

The tension that had been so apparent in Kylo’s posture eased, his grip on Hux’s shirt loosening as the world finally shifted into place.

* * *

“Hey Carol, are you alright with Kylo coming over for awhile?”

She turned to see Hux looking pointedly away from her. “I’ve been trying to get you to bring him back to our place for ages, why on earth would I change now?”

“Not like that. But he looks like shit and I,” Hux paused, as though trying to sort his thoughts out, “I think we need to talk for awhile.”

“Fiiiiiinally. Yes, bring him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, comments, critiques, and questions all welcome!


	6. Sweep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is *mostly* domestic fluff. Yes, you heard that right. Kylux fluff. We're headed for the much messier stuff, so you guys get a fat chapter of fluff to remember when things get ugly.
> 
> This was written fairly quickly, feel free to hmu if you have any corrections :)

It had been a rough week.

“He just…left,” Kylo said.

Carol gave him a slightly pitying look. “Yeah, don’t worry. He does that to everyone sometimes.”

“I don’t even know what I did.”

“Sorry.”

He set the heavybag in motion for her and watched her go at it. For once, he was quiet, not mentioning her form at all. Her heart sank in her chest. This was bad.

“Alright, time.” He stepped away, still not totally present. “Get some water, let me know when you’re set to go again.”

They went through the rest of Carol’s drills, but nothing seemed right. Everything she did was a little bit wrong, and he didn’t hold back on the corrections.

Afterwards, Lucky took one look at him and sighed. “I’ll work with Carol, you need to get out of here. You look like shit.”

“Nah, I don’t really want to go home.”

She looked at him, her brow furrowing with concern. “Ben. Go home. Actually home, not wherever you’ve been staying. Get some sleep, you have that match up on Saturday. You can come back first thing tomorrow and beat the shit out of something if you really want, but for now you need to go home. Don’t make me go get my dad to throw you out.”

He looked at her flatly. “You’re going to throw me out of the one place I actually want to be right now?”

“I will if I have to. Go home and make yourself something to eat, get some sleep. I’ll swing by after practice to check on you.”

The fact that he didn’t argue with her more said everything. He just gave her an aggrieved look and said, “This is bullshit.”

“You heard me. Get some food. And if you’re not up to answer the door, I’m picking your lock to check on you.”

To an extent, she was right. Everything felt…numb. He’d grown so used to at least some degree of pain that it was disconcerting. Why the actual fuck did another rejection hurt so much?

He knew full well why. The initial rejection had been fine, but when Hux had come to find him, it had been like renewed hope, a second chance not to fuck everything up again.

And he had. Of course he had.

And all of that after Hux had started to grow on him, not just because he was a pretty face. He wasn’t just book-smart, the way he’d thought when Carol had first brought him up. That’d been apparent from the moment he opened his mouth about the bikes.

Worst of all, he’d taken the lead. Just for a moment, after Kylo had taken the leap and kissed him once, Hux had kissed him back. It hadn’t been give and take, it’d been Hux picking up on every suggestion Kylo gave and controlling what happened. After that first kiss it hadn’t even been a question that Hux had established some sort of dominance.

It sent Kylo spiraling back into an angry loop of misery. Hux was smart and hot and he couldn’t get him out of his head. _Shit shit shit._

He got home and fell on the leather couch, not even bothering to take off his shoes. It didn’t matter, anyway. They hung off the end.

* * *

He woke up to Lucky banging on his door. He slouched over and let her in. She didn’t beat around the bush. “Is this about that guy?”

He wished he didn’t have to look her in the face. He’d never had much of a pokerface. “What guy?”

“Don’t even try to lie to me, I know all your tells.” She rolled her eyes. “So again, is this about that guy?”

He shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Liar.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong. I sort of might, but…ugh.” He slumped back onto the couch.

“Then maybe you should ask him?”

“How do I even start that conversation? Oh, hi, I was wondering why you just stopped talking to me and fucking…ran away. And I don’t have his number.”

“Have you talked to Carol? He’s her roommate.”

“Yeah, and she said everything seemed fine.” He slumped back into the couch, crossing his arms. “Just means he didn’t think jack shit of me.”

“No it’s not.”

“Look, I know you mean well, but I really just…I just want to sleep.”

Lucky sighed and nodded. “Come talk to me if you want to get stuff off your chest. And I’m going to make sure you’re actually ready for Saturday, so if I’m here, you better let me in. I’ll go get the keys from my dad if you don’t.”

Kylo sighed. “Fine.”

“I’m serious.”

“Alright, I will.”

“Promise?”

“Aghh, fine. Promise.”

* * *

Lucky had been supremely pissed off at him, but at he realized that none of it mattered. He’d gone on with life, gone to the match, warmed up for his fight and everything seemed to disappear in a blur.

But suddenly…he was walking through the door of Carol and Hux’s apartment, still half dazed from the actual fight and then his fight with Hux and it all seemed to be moving much more quickly than he thought it ever could and Hux…didn’t hate him? Apparently?

When he finally found his bearings, he found he liked the place.

Hardly out of the car and in the door, he found himself pushed toward the bathroom to clean up. Carol laughed a bit, but Hux was adamant that he would _not_ have blood and sweat on the furniture. Kylo was still struggling out of clothes when there was a knock and the door cracked open. A towel was handed through. “You doing alright?” Hux’s voice was quiet.

“This sling is stupid. Everything is back in place, I’m fine.”

“Just be careful.”

Kylo grumbled and fought with the sling, finally detaching it from the strap that held it about his neck. When he finally climbed into the shower, it was a relief to let the heat wash away some of the aches and pains. Only the lightest of them, but it was something.

Everything about it seemed a bit surreal. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d wound up here, but he wasn’t complaining. The cool bite of air as he hopped out of the shower was banished by the towel, a stupidly fluffy thing. _Who even buys towels like this?_

Dressing was more of a challenge, as his body didn’t seem to want to work properly. He decided to forego boxers and just pulled sweats on, then fought with his shirt. There was another quiet knock on the door. “Yeah?”

“We’re making food. You hungry?”

"Yeah."

Kylo struggled into the flannel he’d tucked into his gym bag, thankful that it didn’t have to go over his head. His shoulder didn’t feel all that bad, bruised and sore but not in need of the sling. Screw what the trainer had said, he was fine.

He came out of the bathroom to pasta and sauce and chicken, just being served up. Carol slid him a plate helpfully, trying to get everything settled.

* * *

The meal was fairly quiet, a simple, unassuming affair. Kylo found himself shooed away from cleaning up, and he grabbed a pillow from one of the couches in the living room and stretched out on the carpet, listening to Carol and Hux’s quiet banter.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but at some point he dozed off. He woke to find Hux sitting on the couch he’d grabbed the pillow from, working on something on his computer.

“How are you feeling?” Hux’s voice was still quiet as Kylo sat up gingerly.

“I’ve been better. Been worse too, so not bad I guess.” He scooted over to lean against the couch, his shoulders coming up just next to Hux’s leg.

The quiet sank in again. Before long, Kylo had to ask. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get through a couple research papers for lab work next week." The quiet fell again, but this time it was welcome. Hux ran through page after page, and the muted clicks as he scrolled and committed disgustingly large chunks of text to memory became pattern. Kylo was too tired to notice the shivers that seemed to rack him occasionally.

After a few minutes, Hux sat up and stretched. “Need anything?”

“Nah, I’m alright.”

“How about you get ice on that shoulder again?”

Kylo sighed, but nodded. It took some time to get a bag of crushed ice and wrap his shoulder with it, but it didn’t hurt too terribly. His face ached from the deep bruising, more than his shoulder.

Hux reappeared with a blanket, draping it around him as he tried to settle on the floor again. He disappeared after making sure he settled alright. When he returned, he dumped a couple books on the floor and spread out on the couch to slowly slog through another reading. The proximity was comforting, almost as comforting as the blanket Hux had tossed him and the clean smell of laundry that Carol had hung on a drying rack up against the wall.

Kylo leaned back on the couch, momentarily wary as he leaned his head on Hux’s leg. Hux seemed surprised, then relaxed. It was like an ‘all clear’ signal, and Kylo let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He relaxed.

Hux’s hand in his hair was a surprise. He could still hear the occasional click as Hux scrolled through pages, but his fingers traced unknown patterns through Kylo’s hair and very nearly sent him back to sleep.

He focused again as the bag of ice saran-wrapped to his shoulder slowly melted and dripped, and he could feel the bag slowly turning to slush. Still, he had no desire to move. The patterns Hux traced seemed to hold him in a mindful daze, slowing the frenetic pace of the world around him.

He leaned his head far enough back to look at Hux, who had put glasses on at some point, trying to make sense of the entire mess in his head. Why was he even interested? He seemed like a pretentious prick. Sure, Hux was lanky and good looking, but everything about him was clean-cut and made of edges. There was a fearsome sort of drive behind his eyes, and even like this, where he was relaxed on the couch, Kylo could feel the tension in him, like a guitar string vibrating.

Simply put, Hux wasn’t at all the kind of person he’d imagined himself with, but now that it was becoming a thing in his head, everything seemed to click.

It was a wave of something strange that welled up in him and pushed him to announce, “Your glasses make you look like a huge dork.”

Hux’s gaze didn’t leave his screen, but his frown deepened. “You got your entire arm removed from its socket, I’ll take looking dorky over a dislocated arm.”

“It’s…I’m…that’s not what I was saying.” He wasn’t sure how to put all the things he was feeling into words as anxiety crept up his throat and threatened to strangle him again. He took a deep breath, remembering what Hux had said earlier. That he was worried Kylo had done something he would regret because he was drunk. _Start small. Get in his head. Convince him._ “You look good with them.”

Hux’s eyes flicked up from his computer for a moment, amused. “You like them because they make me look like a dork?”

Kylo didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He moved, shifting to the couch after glancing to Hux for approval. He shifted Hux’s legs up and scooted over, dropping the lanky redhead’s socked feet back on his lap. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting his hands run over Hux’s legs.

“Please don’t do this to me, not like this.”

Kylo sat up and pulled his hands away as though burned. “I don’t understand. Is there something wrong with me? Did I do something wrong?”

Hux looked away. “You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s not you.”

“Do I just…is there something about me you don’t like? Like before, why’d you just…” he struggled for words that encompassed the overwhelming feelings of abandonment and rejection he’d felt, “kiss me and then…leave?”

It was an intense look that Hux gave him, one that spoke of apprehension and worry. “I don’t want to take this too fast.”

“What do you mean ‘too fast’?”

“I’ve made mistakes in the past by rushing in headlong. Ah...well, I was drunk. But still, I don’t want to do that again.”

The words stung. “You think I’m a mistake?”

“No, I said I’m afraid of making a mistake.” Hux’s face was reddening. “I’m…uhm, interested. It’s probably stupid, I barely know you, but I don't want to rush into…something, this, whatever we’re calling it, and risking hurting you because I was inebriated. ”

Kylo laughed it off humorlessly. “You honestly think you could hurt me?” He motioned to his shoulder. “Come on, really?”

Hux looked down at him, his eyes wide behind his glasses. He’d fixed Kylo with that weird assessing look again and nodded slowly. “I do. And I’m afraid of the possibility.”

The sincerity in his voice rang true and a thrill ran up Kylo’s spine. It was like a challenge. “I could handle it.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Why would you dole it out?”

Hux glared at him. “You can’t just answer every question I ask with another question.”

He shrugged and settled back against the couch again, until he snapped out of his thoughts as Hux reached across him to try and adjust the ice pack, which had started to slide from its position on his shoulder. Without thinking, Kylo caught his wrist and dragged it aside.

Hux looked down at his arm, then back up at him. “If you break my wrist, I’ll kick your ass. Or I’ll sic Carol on you. I just…I need that hand. I’ve got a tournament next weekend.”

For a moment, Kylo stared at him, the words not registering. When they finally slid into place, he blinked, looked down at Hux’s arm, then let go. Not entirely, but he loosened his grip to something feather-light. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He looked back to his book.

Kylo tried to break the silence. “Tournament?”

“I fence.”

“What, with swords?”

Hux sighed. “Close enough.”

“So…have you ever been stabbed? Like actually stabbed?”

There was a moment where Hux closed his eyes, as though he’d heard it hundreds of times before. “They’re not sharp, they’re electric. You get points based on the electric circuits opening or closing, depending on what weapon.”

“So…what weapon do you fence?” He knew nothing about fencing but the question felt a bit forced.

“Epee.”

“That means absolutely nothing to me. What does that mean? Is it a certain style? Is it…”

“Look, you want me to give you a really basic overview of things?” Hux sounded exasperated although the edge of amusement in his voice was a relief.

Half an hour later, Kylo felt marginally more informed, although there seemed to be so many rules it was impossible to keep track of which rules applied to each weapon. Hux’s proximity was distracting as well, so that didn’t help matters.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You have your thing, I have mine.”

“Mine is actually fighting. Yours is…poking people with a metal stick.”

“You and I, we have different forms of combat. Mine is just as valid as yours.”

“Mmhmm.”

Hux sighed and settled back into the couch. “Go get that ice pack off your shoulder, you nuisance. It’s starting to melt everywhere.”

Kylo couldn’t help noticing the note of fondness in the teasing.

* * *

After wrapping back up in the blanket and shoving his feet down in the cushions, Kylo passed out on the opposite side of the couch where Hux studied. Hours passed like that, and only when Carol came back into the main room like a whirlwind did either of them surface back into awareness of the real world. Kylo woke up blearily, trying not to whine about his jaw.

“What’s up?”

Carol sighed, running to the pantry and plunking a bottle of rum on the counter. “Look, you two do whatever you want. The booze is here if you decide to replicate last weekend without the panic and self-loathing, or whatever bullshit you two got into. Ignore it if you don’t want to.”

Hux sat bolt upright on the couch. “What? Where are you going?”

“Out! I’ve got tickets to a movie with Lucky and then I’m sleeping at her place!”

He dropped back into the couch. “Be careful!” he called.

“Be sure you’re there in time for the first round tomorrow morning!” Kylo said.

“You two, of all people, are momming me? Please.” She glanced back at the both of them and laughed. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Kylo could see the color rising in Hux’s cheeks as he called after her, “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?”

Too late. The door shut and locked.

“Don’t listen to her,” Hux mumbled.

“I’m going to listen to her.”

“Why?”

“My face hurts. I could use a drink.” He climbed to his feet slowly, trying not to wince as he stretched.

“How’s the shoulder?”

“It’s…I could use more than one drink.” Kylo turned to look at him. “You gonna let me drink alone?”

Hux sighed and closed his laptop. “I’m not going tomorrow morning hung over.”

“Nah, we won't have that many.”

* * *

A couple drinks later, the aching in Kylo’s shoulder was fading and the pain of his jaw had settled to a slow throbbing. He could breathe again, and Hux had finally unwound. He wasn’t to the point he’d been at Lando’s, but he had definitely loosened up. They traded stories about Carol, and Kylo was completely unsurprised to find that she was as much of a pain to everyone.

“She gave me a cactus for my birthday the first year I knew her. All I could think was ‘what am I supposed to do with a cactus?’. She said I needed a friend as prickly as I was.” Hux seemed to vibrate with amusement, like his skin thrummed.

“Ugh, get rid of it after the first couple times you accidentally stab yourself with it?”

“It’s a tiny cactus!”

“Like you?”

Hux laughed and raised a hand for emphasis. “To start with, don’t you dare start on the short jokes, I’m tall to normal people, you two are just freaks of nature.”

“You didn’t deny the cactus bit.”

Hux shrugged. “Whatever. I’m prickly to some people. It’s fine.” He started pouring himself another drink, then paused, the liter of coke still in his hand. “You’re staying the night, yeah?”

It was out of the blue, enough to catch Kylo off guard. “What?”

“Well, you’ve been drinking. And Carol drove, and she’s gone, and I’m not in any shape to drive you home. So…”

Kylo stared at him. “Not sure what you mean by ‘staying the night’.”

Hux examined the bottle in front of him with more concentration than was entirely necessary before looking up. “Neither am I.”

“Uh…”

“I want you to stay. I just…don’t want to do anything stupid.”

Kylo felt a smug smirk grow. “Scared of getting attached to me?”

“I’m not scared of you. ‘m scared of me.” He reflected. “Also, we’re both buzzed.”

“So?”

Hux snorted. “If you want to fuck around, I’m setting a rule that neither of us are drunk. That caused enough issues the first time around.” He stopped and stared, the grin from moments before fading into a worried expression. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is this a thing? Some sort of relationship? Or what?”

Kylo looked at him, trying to read him to no avail. “What do you want?”

“I don’t…I’m not just some one-night stand, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He took a deep breath. “That’s not what I’m looking for either.”

“Ah. So…”

“I’m pretty much fine with whatever. So whatever this is…we do it your way, then?”

Hux’s eyes widened with disbelief before he looked at the floor. “Ah. Good, well…I’m probably going to crash soon. Where do you want to sleep?”

Everything felt so much more awkward than it should have been, but Kylo still felt like he’d already messed things up once. He didn’t want to do it again. “Where will you let me sleep?”

“Wherever? Like…really, wherever is fine. As long as you don’t feel me up in the middle of the night while you’re drunk.”

* * *

“Sorry, I don’t have an extra toothbrush.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I’ve got one in my gym bag.”

Hux’s eyes rose but he didn’t smile. “Sleep away from home often?”

“Weird hours, night calls for emergency work in the shop. But thanks.” He could see Hux’s face contort with the realization that he’d misjudged Kylo again, but he hid it quickly.

Twenty minutes later he found himself staring up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the still-throbbing pain in his jaw. The weight of Hux on the bed next to him was like a weight on the plane of his consciousness. The weirdness of the situation had finally sunk in, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He certainly didn’t feel bad about it, just…unsure.

Maybe the morning would bring actual answers.

* * *

Kylo woke up, suppressing a groan as he moved. Fuck, his shoulder hurt. And his face. The myriad of other blows Shepherd had landed ached, but not nearly as bad.

He blinked into an unfamiliar room as he woke, grimacing a bit as a splinter of sunlight stabbed him in the eye. He shifted, pushing himself up on his good arm, and memories started pouring in like a flood as he saw who he was next to.

The slants of sun through the blinds lit Hux’s hair up like fire and alternated his face between blinding white that reflected the sun and freckled shadows.

He raced through his memories of the night before but no, they hadn’t done anything, and they certainly hadn’t drank enough to do something and not remember it. Hell, he didn’t even have a hangover.

Well. This was a new one. Waking up in bed with someone he hadn’t slept with, at least, someone he hadn’t _slept with_. It was a rare enough occurrence, but there was something about the morning that made it alright.

Hux’s hand was flung up on the pillow, spindly and bleached out in the weird light. Hux was all nearly-translucent skin that showed blood vessels straight through it in the crook of his arm, contrasting pale and vibrant colors. The entire look put together was weird, striking, and absurdly beautiful.

His brain tripped over the last thought.

He’d liked the look of a couple guys before, thought them handsome or witty or slept with them simply because he wanted to. Hell, he’d slept with one simply because he hated himself. But here, there was a spike of want that he couldn’t suppress. Part of him knew full well he should stay away, because there was only one thing that could possibly happen when he got close.

Kylo knew that despite his knack for building machines, he took people apart in a way they couldn’t quite be put back together. It seemed a shame to take someone like Hux apart the way Kylo wanted.

The redhead’s arm twitched and he stirred, shifting and turning a bit.

Watching Hux wake up was like watching the sun rise on a cloudy morning.

And shit, it was _terrifying_.

Fear and anxiety gripped him, the certainty that Hux would throw him out as soon as he woke up enough to realize Kylo was curled up next to him. He was half-hard and freeballing had been a mistake and Hux would know the moment he woke up and he’d throw him out and this was all too nice to last and he wanted to curl back into the blankets but that meant curling up with Hux and that would just make things worse.

But the verbal lashing he expected never came. Instead, Hux just looked at him, his eyes lit up in the bits of sunlight like pools so clear you could see the stones and sand on the bottom.

“Your eyes are almost gold in the sun, did you know that?” The words were bleary with sleep, and caught Kylo entirely by surprise, gripping his chest and _squeezing_.

There was a beat before Hux reached for him, running a hand down his cheek to gently turn his face to the light. “You’ve got a hell of a bruise.” The moment was broken by the corner of Hux’s mouth ticking up as all the gears started turning in his head at the proper speed.

There was no way Kylo could let that one go unanswered. “You have horrible bedhead.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Mine always looks like this.”

Hux snorted and scooted closer to him, turning flat on his back and 'hmm'ing. Kylo nervously wrapped an arm around him and settled as Hux didn’t object. In fact, he leaned a fraction closer at the contact.

They stayed that way for a couple minutes, until Kylo mustered up the courage to make a move, turning and pressing a kiss to his chest. Hux’s mouth turned up in a smile and he continued, shifting to hover over him a bit and working his way down his chest. Eventually, he had to air what was on his mind. “Tell me what you want.”

Hux looked up at him for a second, disbelieving. “What like…right now? From life? For breakfast? You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

It sounded like he said it just to be contrary, but it gave Kylo pause. He blinked, then leaned back, giving him a bit of space. “Um. I meant right now, but you’ve piqued my curiosity.” Instead of continuing the line of kisses he’d been trailing down Hux’s stomach, he stopped and scooted close. “What do you want out of life?”

It took a minute for Hux to adjust as Kylo wrapped his good arm behind his back and curled around him, his head resting on Hux’s chest and shoulder. He seemed to struggle with his thoughts for a moment as he considered the question. “I…um…I’d like to have a steady job. A disposable income of some sort would be nice, you know? School doesn’t pay.” Kylo traced patterns across his stomach and hips, and he could hear the strain in his voice as Hux fought to keep his attention on what he was saying. “In the long run, I want to work in energy policy. I’d love to help write clean energy policy, even just on a state level. On a national level would be amazing but I’m not getting my hopes up yet.”

Kylo’s hand stopped moving and he looked up at him. “Ooh, I don’t think I would have expected that of you.”

“What did you…” He could hear Hux struggle to breathe as his fingers slipped under the waistband of his boxers for a moment before returning to tamer patterns. “What did you expect?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Something rather more…self-centered, I suppose. I don’t mean that in a bad way, just…it’s pretty clear you know you’re smart. You’ve got a straightforward drive. But it turns out you’re an idealist. I don’t date idealists. Usually.”

“Well, someone has to have a vision for the future.” Hux paused, considering. “Is that what this is? Dating? Seems kind of fast, don’t you think?”

“I mean…do you want it to be? Dating, that is?”

Hux made a noise of aggravation. “You said you don’t date idealists. You could always dump me, I suppose.” Hux sighed and fell silent for a minute, his eyes closing lazily. “That’s really distracting, you know that?”

“Mmhmm.” It was almost too easy to distract him. Kylo pressed his lips to his throat. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Hux’s eyes closed, but Kylo could feel his pulse speed up under his questing fingers. “I…I’d like it to be.”

“You said last night you didn’t want either of us to be drunk.”

Hux’s eyes shot open and after a moment a thin smile crept across his face, clearly a much larger one carefully suppressed. “Correct.”

“So what do you want from me?”

“I want to not push you away with what I want. And for this to be more than a fling to you.” He turned to look at Kylo, and hell if his expression wasn't flat-out dangerous.

“Well, you already have confirmation on the second. As for the first…try me. I think you’d be surprised.”

Hux caught his face in his hands and leaned in for a kiss. As their lips met, Kylo felt a heavy pressure and sudden, stabbing pain in his jaw where Hux dug his thumb into the deep bruise that was forming where Shepherd had split his lip.

He started to yank himself back from the pain, but his brain did an abrupt about-face without his acknowledgement and he found himself instinctively pressing further into the mix of pain and pleasure, despite the increased stabbing pain in his jaw. A spike of arousal punched him in the gut.

They finally broke apart and Hux looked at him, his eyes blown wide. “You sadistic bastard.”

“Problem?”

“You’re twisted.”

“So are you.”

“I suspected as much from you, but…” He’d never seen Hux grin quite so wide. “Right. You asked me what I want.”

Kylo’s skin shivered with anticipation. “Mmhmm?”

“Quite frankly I’d like to fuck you into the mattress, but for now I’d settle for just getting you off.”

* * *

“Are you trying to kill me with anticipation?”

“Someday I will, I promise. Now shut up.”

From the way Hux had taken control of the first kiss, Kylo had held up the hope that he was the same in bed. Very open to suggestion, but ultimately assertive.

He certainly wasn’t disappointed.

* * *

The door creaked open and the smell of coffee drifted in. Kylo cracked his eyes open to see Hux standing in the doorway, drinking a cup in his boxers. “Come on, let’s get moving.”

Kylo groaned. “I just want to lay here and be dead for awhile.”

“No, you’re not allowed to. Carol will kill us both if we’re not there.”

“Shit.”

* * *

By the time Kylo finally swung himself out of bed, Hux was in the bathroom, popping his contacts in and blinking at himself in the mirror, wide eyed. There was a towel wrapped about his waist and his hair was dark with water from his own shower. Kylo looked at him for a moment, acknowledging how strange it was to see so much of Hux’s skin. He flipped the water on, stripping as it warmed again and sparing a glance toward Hux, who very definitely wasn’t watching in the mirror as Kylo had hoped. Instead, he was rifling about in the cabinet behind the mirror, placing shaving cream, a cloth, and a razor that turned out to be a straight razor.

His skin pricked with danger and the barest hints of renewed arousal as he climbed into the shower, closing the glass door behind him. The glass was frosted at the bottom with a decreasing gradient of spots that cleared entirely at the level of his chest. The shower still smelled strongly of almond and something spicier, the smell he’d begun to associate with Hux.

Kylo closed his eyes as he rubbed thick shampoo through his hair. Hmm. The almond scent. It was strangely relaxing, and although the entire situation seemed a bit odd, he appreciated Hux’s taste in products.

When he’d rinsed his hair out, he blinked his eyes open and took a look at the rest of the products in the shower. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hux had already made progress shaving. Nimble fingers Kylo enjoyed more than he wanted to admit handled the blade with familiar deftness. Somehow it didn’t even surprise him.

Of course Hux would use a straight blade. Fucking pretentious bullshit, that’s what it was. It stung a bit, pricking at a familiar memory of childhood Saturday mornings that he shoved down and buried. He averted his eyes, grateful not to be caught in his observations.

It was unnerving. As much as he could feel a craving for contact and closeness, Kylo knew full well that things hardly ever got to this point. He would break it off, the other guy would break it off, there would be a mutual blow-up, something. It never made it to this point of…domesticity. But here they were, dating? Not dating? He still wasn’t sure. Whatever it was between them, casual domestic intimacy slotted itself in like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

And that was why it was so terrifying. Hux was cool and controlled, an unreadable marble statue half the time and an icy jerk a significant chunk of the remaining half. For the most part, the control covered up the emotions and thoughts. And yet he’d seen Hux fall apart, something he intended to do again.

Hux was vulnerable. He was in his own territory, he was comfortable, and he was vulnerable. Kylo recognized a sense of anxiety and fear, understood well enough to know that if he could see someone this exposed, no pun intended, they could see him the same way.

And usually, it didn’t feel so dangerous. He wore his heart on his sleeve, the physical rush meaning much less than emotional closeness. He was reckless, a thrill seeker, someone who would do stupid shit for attention or entertainment, and he had the scars to prove it. But this weird feeling of emotional closeness was alien, and he knew that this kind of openness was a two-way street. No matter how he tried to spin it, Hux was still seeing him, weak and susceptible.

_Shit._

* * *

Carol won her first fight. Not easily, and she got a blacked eye for her efforts, but she won.

Kylo watched her, beaming with pride, and realized that the high he was having was the same sort of thing he’d felt when he won his first fight.

He looked at Hux and felt his chest tighten.

Maybe it was even better.

* * *

Something about the afternoon, the cloudless chill of a perfect fall day, the sun, the colors, spurred him to make a visit, almost two months overdue.

The rumble of the Victory split the silence of the cemetery, but Kylo had long grown used to it. It was almost always abandoned at this time of day, and nothing would wake the dead.

His father’s grave was little more than a bronze plaque sunken in the ground, dusty with mown grass clippings. Kylo brushed it off and knew full well that there was no one there. Still, sometimes it made him feel better to verbalize things.

“So…I thought I’d swing by. You always wanted to know if I was seeing anyone.” He sat down, leaning against an old, gnarled tree that separated this secluded little corner of the graveyard from a much older section. The sun was out, the fall breeze light with the promise of cooler weather. “It’s…something. It feels like it might actually last a little while.”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, hating himself as he did so but needing something to ground him. He lit up, taking a drag as he tried to find the right words. “You’d like him. He’s a bit like mum. Too serious sometimes. Sarcastic. Really smart. Like he’s going places. I’m not sure where yet, but he’s going somewhere. Don’t know that he’ll stick around long, but…I think I’d like it if he did.”

Han’s grave sat there silently. Kylo didn’t feel any particular need to fill the silence. His guilt already did it for him. Four years later and it still seemed to crawl up his stomach to settle in his throat.

The late afternoon passed slowly into evening and the shadows stretched. A couple other visitors came and went, paying no attention to the man leaning in the roots of the old willow. He’d smoked more than usual, but it had taken hours to mellow out from the weird high he’d been on when he left Carol’s match.

“Your Victory still looks just as good as the day you bought her. Been through a bit, but you knew she’d turn into a tough lady when you picked her out.”

The sun was growing low to the treetops, not setting yet.

“I know it doesn’t matter, but I’m still sorry.”

He turned and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, questions, comments, and critiques are always appreciated!


	7. Disengage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N #1 A warning: this chapter and the next contain an instance of domestic abuse. You’re going to see this from both sides, and it’s going to get ugly. That’s your trigger warning for the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next. If you or someone you know is being abused, please, seek help. You’re not alone in this, just reach out and I promise someone will reach back. 
> 
> If you would like to keep reading but don't want to read this part, that's alright! We'll be in safer territory by ch 9. Come talk to me, I'm more than happy to provide a plot point summary for any readers uncomfortable with the current material.

They texted back and forth, but it was irregular and impersonal. Hux knew from the start that he didn’t have time for a relationship.

The next two weeks were packed. Midterms came and went, hell in the form of 90 minute exams. As much as Hux prepared, they still made him nervous. By the time he finished his last exam Thursday night, he was ready to fall into bed for a week.

No chance of that, though. Zare had talked him into going to the team tournament that weekend, and he had to spend the evening washing and packing his gear. At that rate, he was just grateful his mother had been able to take an afternoon off and meet him at the halfway point between home and school. He had no desire to drive the full five hours home and back.

Carol came home to find his gear spread out on the rack, thick double layers of canvas drying out the last little bit. Even though they had a drier, it left a lot to be desired.

She poked about in his stuff, eventually picking his jacket up and staring at it. “The, uh, crotch strap thing on this is really weird.” She frowned and stared at it for a second before her face twisted into a suppressed laugh. “Oh no, it’s like a really really weird thong.”

He sighed. “It keeps it from riding up. Better that than getting stabbed in the stomach.”

She looked through the rest of his gear, her hands eventually landing on his knickers. Her eyes widened and she picked them up as well. “People don’t actually wear these, do they?”

“Uhm…yes?”

She absolutely dissolved into hysterical laughter. He grabbed his jacket off the chair and started trying to pack the rest of his gear. “Someday I’m going to find something stupid you do and never let it go.”

“You do that, Mr. Fancy Pants.” She stopped laughing for a moment, surprised by her own off-the-wall stroke of genius, then started howling with laughter again. “They have built-in suspenders!”

He couldn’t help sighing. “Alright, come on, hand them over.”

She tossed them and he wound up with a faceful of canvas.

* * *

Friday passed in a blur. Classes disappeared and he found himself tossing his bag into the back of the van he was assigned to. The Leonis siblings were the registered drivers for Hux’s van, and he was thankful to have been assigned to a van with people he knew.

Not that he talked much anyway. On the way to the tournament, Hux slept. He’d been piled into a van with a third of the team, and as the new-ish guy, it seemed that he wasn’t expected to be particularly chatty. He caught up on a couple hours of sleep, ordered food when they stopped, and generally did as he was expected.

“So what’s your deal?”

He looked over at Dhara as they stood in line to order food. “What?”

“You talk, yeah? You’ve been really quiet.” It was clear she didn’t mean anything bad by it, and her words were teasing.

“I, uh, I’m just tired.”

She gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Yeah, I feel you. Midterms. Well, we’re almost there, another half hour and you can crash at the hotel.”

Dhara was right. Rooms were assigned by weapon, and he crashed in a room with Zare and Beck. He’d nearly fallen asleep when his phone buzzed with a text from Kylo.

_What are you up to?_

He blearily replied, _Out of town. Tournament, remember?_

_Right. You still up to talk?_

He stared at his phone, suppressing the vague urge to throw it across the room.

_A bit. Stuff starts early tomorrow. May fall asleep._

_Carol is pissing me off_

He tried not to laugh at that. _What did she do?_

_She won’t shut up about us_

Ah. Well, Hux couldn’t blame him. About an hour later, Kylo fell silent. It wasn’t horribly late, but Hux was ready to sleep.

He wrote _Sleep well_ and let himself drop off.

* * *

He woke to Zare’s alarm. It was annoying and tinny, ten times worse than the usual vibration of Hux’s fitbit.

“Ugh.”

Beck, the third member of the squad, chucked a pillow at him. “Get up sleeping beauty. Breakfast and then we’re out of here.”

Hux checked his phone, surprised by a couple missed messages, received sometime around five AM.

_Fell asleep, my bad._

And another. _Hope your tournament goes well. Go stab a bitch_

Hux couldn’t keep from snorting at it. If nothing else, it was like a little motivational push to get up. From that point, he operated on the pattern he followed most days. Wash face. Put contacts in. Brush teeth. Get dressed.

He adjusted his compression shorts and suppressed a sigh as he pulled his knickers on, pulling the suspenders to cross his chest and folding down the obnoxiously high Velcro waistband. They were bigger than they’d been before. A fair amount of the muscle in his quads had vanished since he’d stopped fencing years before, and he knew he was going to be horrifically sore after this was all over. He dragged his socks on and pulled button down sweatpants over all of it. At least he didn’t have to look like an idiot in public.

Beck waved him out. “Come on, let’s get food. Breakfast opened up like an hour ago, and you look like you could use it.”

Hux groaned. “I could use coffee.”

“And food. We don’t need the new guy passing out, you know?”

* * *

He sat in the room to the side of the hotel lobby, listening to the mild chatter around him and nursing the worst cup of coffee he’d had in ages.

A chirpy girl from the women's saber team passed by his table, saying, “You know, people who drink their coffee black are more likely to be sociopathic.”

“Thanks. I don’t need commentary on my personal tendencies, I just need the caffeine and like ten more minutes of peace for it to kick in.”

Zare looked at him, his mouth twisting with repressed humor. “Not a morning person?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, get another cup for the road. It’s going to be a long day.”

“I’ll be fine as soon as I’m awake, it’ll just take a bit.”

Dhara sat down to chat with Zare, and the focus was finally off of him. Hux groaned into his coffee.

* * *

The field house had been set up with a number of strips. Hux took a deep breath, memories of tournaments flooding back. It’d been ages, and the anticipation of the last week coalesced in his chest into a ball of nerves.

“Go ahead and drop your stuff in our team space and start getting stretched. Give me your mask, I need to get Beck’s and mine as well. They’ve got mask check over by the check-in table, I’ll get them all checked so you guys can get stretched,” Zare said once he’d dropped his bag.

“I’m going to go jog for a bit first.”

Zare nodded. “Do whatever you need to do. I’d like to get warmed up and ready as soon as we can. The strips here tend to get taken up pretty quick.”

* * *

The first couple teams they were up against weren’t too bad. Hux found himself fairly satisfied with the bouts. He had a streak of victories, finally broken as he lost 4-5 to another left-handed fencer. He’d felt a small sense of relief when the bout was tied 4-4 as time ran out. He won the coin flip for priority. It should have been his.

One moment of less focus, and his opponent nailed him in the shoulder with a flick.

He knew a deserving point when he saw one, and as much as he wanted to be angry with his opponent, he couldn’t find it in him. Instead, that anger turned inward at his own mistake, powering him through the next two teams worth of bouts.

If he hit a bit harder than necessary, well, they didn’t know that.

He’d really hit his stride by the middle of the morning. Sure, he was making stupid mistakes, but he was winning bouts, and according to Zare, that was all they needed for now.

Zare seemed pumped for the last school before lunch. By way of explanation, he said, “Poe and I go way back. We go back and forth all the time.” Zare grinned. “And this time, I’m going to kick his ass.”

The first of the three Hux found himself up against was the black guy, the one with ‘Dameron’ in blue across the back of his jacket. Hux sized him up as the director checked their shims and they tested bells. The guy was right handed and shorter than Hux, and he had an apprehensive look about him, his weight not quite centered in his en garde stance. Hux had him pinned as a newbie at that alone.

Still, he found himself enjoying the bout more than he had any right to. Sure, his opponent made some rather elementary mistakes, but he was quite quick to pick up on his own mistakes, and he didn’t let Hux get points the same way twice. He even nailed him on a double touch.

He won the bout handily and saluted. As he flipped his hand to shake, the other guy hesitated at the odd motion of a lefty flipping their hand to shake, then nodded and corrected his action. “Nice bout.”

Without his mask, he had a sweet, almost infectious smile. Despite Hux’s irritation that this guy, so obviously new to the sport, had scored a point on him, he found himself cracking a bit of a smile. “Thanks, you too.”

Hux watched as Zare took on the other team’s captain, who also had ‘Dameron’ across his back. Of course, this was the one Zare had been talking about. He really was quite good. Zare had a tight defense, parrying quickly and even binding Poe on a few occasions. On the other hand, Poe had quick retreats and a lightning-fast flèche.

Hux could see where the other captain left openings, and he took note, fully intending to use the information to his own advantage. They went back and forth, drawing even at 4-4 and nailing each other with double touches three times before Poe finally tricked Zare into rising to a feint, and nailed him in the wrist.

Beck took on the third member of the other team. The back of his jacket said ‘Arana’, and although he put up a fight, Hux could see his failings. Beck beat him, 5-4, and Hux took a deep breath. He could manage that guy. The captain, though…he was going to be trouble. He watched as the captain destroyed Beck, with flèche after flèche.

Hux watched as Zare beat the first fencer pretty cleanly and took another deep breath, preparing himself for the next bout. They got to the strip, tested, and fenced. The bout against Arana wasn’t too bad, although again, Hux found himself getting hit with touches he knew better than to get in the way of. He won, but not as easily as he’d liked to have.

He sat down, drinking some water and trying to focus on the openings he’d seen the other captain show while fencing Zare. Time almost seemed to blur as he fought to see the actions in his mind’s eye. When he was up, he went to the strip nearly in a trance, clipping in and having his blade tested on reflex.

He focused on the present as they tested, saluted, and pulled their masks on.

“En garde. Ready? Fence!”

Both fencers advanced slowly, sizing each other up. Hux tried to set the pace, daring Poe to follow his tempo and lulling him into a false sense of security. Without warning, Poe abruptly crosstepped forward and flèched, taking Hux by surprise and getting the point.

Hux kept up from that point on, but only just. He knew full well he would have struggled if he hadn’t watched the captain fence Zare. After a double touch, he knew he had to try something different. He toyed with the blade, trying to draw his opponent into making an attack. Time passed, and Hux had a sinking feeling they were going to get called for noncombativity.

So instead of waiting, as he’d planned, he changed his action, binding the other man’s blade and sinking to nail him in the shoulder.

The next two points were doubles, and Hux could feel the pressure bearing down on him. The captain nailed him with a beat attack turned into a feint and a disengage, something Hux swore at himself internally for not seeing coming.

4-4. Hux took a moment to compose himself as they started again.

The captain didn’t take a moment. He leapt, flicked, and the buzzer was ringing in Hux’s ears before the sting of the point registered in his brain. When it finally sank in, Hux reached up and pulled his mask off, barely managing to control the action. He saluted, bit down on the bitter wave that welled up in his chest, and forced himself to smile.

The captain smiled as he held out a hand to shake. “Nice bout! You’re good, but I haven’t seen you around before. Where did you pop out of?”

It assuaged the bitterness a bit. “I’m out of practice, I started fencing again at the beginning of the semester. It’s been years.”

The captain nodded and held up a hand. “Gimme ten seconds to sign off and we’ll be over.”

Hux stepped aside and unplugged as Zare signed off on the score sheet. The teams shook hands and met in the middle, as the other captain gave Zare a quick, less formal, hug. Zare’s formerly businesslike expression split into a grin. “Good to see you again, Poe. Looks like a rebuilding year for you guys, huh?”

“Yeah, we lost Muran, but Finn’s been doing great. He joined up this year. Pretty fresh, but he’s got a lot of potential.”

Hux spoke up. “Not to sound stupid, but…are you two related or is the universe just playing a weird trick or what?”

The captain grinned. “Nah, he’s new, just borrowing some of my old gear until his comes in. Not bad for his first tournament, he’s got a great eye.” He clapped a hand on Finn’s shoulder proudly.

Zare acknowledged Finn and the younger man’s face split into a satisfied smile. “Wait, it’s your first tournament? I’m impressed.”

The six of them talked through the lunch break like old friends, despite their schools’ rivalry.

Hux found himself sitting across from Poe and the freshman, Finn. Listening to them talk, he could see that Finn was picking things up incredibly quickly. He’d been unrefined, but Hux couldn’t keep from thinking that despite his boyish charm, he’d turn into a serious competitive threat, same as the captain.

“So, hot shot, how long have you been fencing?”

Hux blinked with confusion for a moment before realizing the question was directed at him. “Fenced for years in school but it’s been awhile.”

Poe squared him with an assessing look. “So, you popped out of nowhere. Where are you going? Like what are you in?”

“Mechanical Engineering and Political Science.”

The center of attention was uncomfortable, and proved so when Beck piped up. “Whaaaaaat? I had no idea. Thought you were just Poli Sci.”

He shrugged. “I’d like to go into tech policy, but I’m not actually sure how I’m going to get there.”

“Hey you know what? My dad has an old friend in Washington, works for the NSF. You want me to check if they’re hiring anyone like you?” Poe said.

Hux was aghast. “What? You hardly even know me.”

“I can tell who’s quick on the uptake when they start, and you’re up there. I’ll let you know if I find anything, you seem like a pretty straightforward guy…even if you fence for someone else.” Poe smiled and winked. Actually winked. “Besides, if I can give you a lead that pans out, maybe someday you’ll return the favor.”

“What are you in?”

Poe shrugged. “Aviation Tech, but hey, you never know.”

The conversation continued along similar notes for the remainder of the break. The squads split again after lunch, to handshakes and a couple hugs. They were rival schools, after all.

* * *

Hux dug through his bag, tucked away on the bleachers. The protein bar he’d been munching on was enough for now, but real food at the end of the day would be amazing. He tossed back half his water bottle and sighed. They still had to get through all the afternoon’s teams.

* * *

By the time they climbed in the van, Hux was so burned out he was weirdly grateful not to have to drive. He was tired, genuinely drained. The trip home was long, and after they stopped for food he spent it near-sleeping in the back seat, watching headlights blur past in the darkness outside until he nodded off.

* * *

He woke as they got home, just before midnight. It was another half hour before Hux got back to his apartment, dumping his bag in the living room and flopping onto the couch.

After the text in the morning, there had been radio silence from Kylo for the rest of the day. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but something in Hux’s gut nagged at him. He lay there for awhile, too tired to really do anything. He eventually motivated himself by bribery; a hot shower sounded amazing. The gang showers at the tournament had been lukewarm at best, and everything hurt.

When he finally dragged himself to the shower, he steamed some of the pain out of his muscles. The next day was going to be horrendous, he could feel it already.

After what felt like the longest time he’d ever spent in the shower, he heard his phone buzz on the countertop and sighed, turning the water off. Grabbing a towel, he glanced at it. A text from Kylo. This late? Whatever. He had weird hours.

_Can I come over?_

Hux blinked. That was rather forward.

_Yeah sure. What’s up?_

_I just need to get out of my place_

_You alright?_

There was no response. Hux stared at his phone, unsure what to make of the entire exchange.

* * *

Half an hour later, Kylo stood on the apartment threshold, looking like shit. Shadows had formed under his dark eyes, and something about him looked hunted.

“Ah, come in. You doing alright?”

“Peachy.” He dropped a duffel bag on the floor. Hux took in his stance, defensive and aggressive all at once, although there seemed to be something exhausted about the way he held his shoulders.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Whatever this is,” he motioned to Kylo’s body language, “it’s not ‘nothing’.” He moved to touch Kylo’s shoulder reassuringly.

Kylo shoved his arm away. “Look, I came here to forget shit. If you’re going to try to pry it out of me, I’ll fucking leave.”

Hux held out his hands defensively and sat down on the couch. “Hey, that’s fine, I won’t ask anymore. I just thought…maybe it would help you to talk about it.”

“No.” Kylo was silent for a long minute, then slumped onto the couch next to him and said, “Family shit.”

Hux could relate. He had plenty of his own family drama he didn’t want to talk about. “Ah. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

Hux sighed. “Alright. Fine.”

Silence struck and stayed. It was uncomfortable at first, but as Kylo’s hackles fell, it became companionable.

Kylo was the first to break the silence. “Can I stay the night?”

“It’s almost three am. I kind of figured you would.”

“I’m too fucking tall for this couch.”

“Right, because it was bought with you in mind.”

“Fine, you’re too tall for this couch.”

Hux settled in, somewhat pleased with the inane contradiction. “Not my couch.”

“Carol, of all people, is too fucking tall for this couch.”

“Look, if you’d rather crash in my bed again you could just ask.”

They wound up bundled in blankets Hux’s bed. Kylo was a human furnace, something Hux appreciated more and more as the weather had grown colder. There was a certain sense of peace laying there, a comfortable sort of stillness.

He wouldn’t have called it cuddling. Kylo wasn’t a cuddly person.

If asked, Hux wasn’t sure what he would call it. Whatever it was, it was nice to lay there, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the anger and upset slowly drain out of Kylo’s frame.

Hux wound his hands in Kylo’s hair, committing to memory how stupidly soft it was. For a man that was all lean planes and angles, cut muscle and jutting bone, his hair was ridiculously nice. The action itself seemed to soothe Kylo, so really, there was no reason for complaint on either of their parts.

Definitely not cuddling.

* * *

“I’m hungry.” Kylo grumbled around 4am.

“…yeah? And?”

“You’re on top of me.”

“I’m not getting up.”

“Oh for the love of fuck. Why?”

“I’m tired.” It was true. Hux hadn’t felt the bone-deep exhaustion that followed a tournament in years.

“Mooooove.”

“Make me.”

“That can be arranged.”

Without warning, Kylo surged up, easily flipping Hux and tossing him back on his bed. He groaned and tried to bundle back into the blankets, grumbling, “There’s food in the kitchen, take whatever you want just don’t make a mess.”

Kylo snorted.

Hux was barely awake, and though there was a curl of want in the pit of his stomach, he waved Kylo away and dropped back off to sleep.

* * *

Hux woke to his alarm, finding himself in an empty bed. Odd, but unsurprising.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he got ready for the day and grimaced. Bruises peppered the left side of his neck and shoulders, florid splotches of blue and purple that splattered both sides of his body. He was grateful for the collar of his shirt, and the tie gave him a reason to button it all the way.

The day sludged by slowly, crawling at a snail’s pace. Around lunch, he texted Kylo on a whim.

_How are you doing?_

It was late afternoon by the time he received an answer. _Alright. You up for a visitor again tonight?_

_That’s fine_

* * *

That night Kylo looked at the black and blue smudge on his arm and nodded approvingly. “That looks like it sucks.”

Hux groaned, legs still screaming sore in comparison to the bruises. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you get stabbed with a blunt metal stick.”

He yelped with pain as Kylo’s grip on his arm tightened and he ran his opposite fingers through the bruise, pressing hard enough to hit him with a fresh stab of pain. “Agh! What the fuck?” He tried to yank his arm away, but Kylo’s grip was vise-like.

“It’ll go away quicker if you rub it, it helps the pooling blood get reabsorbed.” He took his hand away from the bruise carefully, but didn’t release his other hand. The look on his face was earnest and open, but unapologetic.

Hux gritted his teeth. “You could have warned me.”

He could have sworn a smirk danced around Kylo’s mouth. “Nah, it hurts more then.”

“So what are you going to do, just dig your fingers into every bruise I have?”

Kylo shrugged. “I dunno. If you want, I guess?”

Hux stared at him, unsure what to say. Yes, he wanted the bruises to go away faster, especially the ones that were mostly healed, the nasty yellow-green remains of bruises that peppered his skin and made him look borderline jaundiced. No, he had no desire to give Kylo permission to grope him in private or in public. It was a weird question, one he had no real answer for.

He finally settled, saying, “Just…warn me next time or something.”

He very carefully ignored the thrill of excitement under his skin. Kylo watched him carefully for awhile before settling down to sleep. Hux finished the chapter he’d been working his way through and flicked off the light.

* * *

It was the third time Kylo slept in his bed.

It was the first time Hux saw him have a nightmare.

His clock glowed, gentle green lights reflecting 2:51 on his wall, when Hux was jolted out of sleep by an elbow to the ribcage. The lights were the only thing gentle about waking. Kylo was shuddering at his side, making sounds that didn’t quite resolve themselves into words and juddering with the force of the muscle spasms that wracked him.

The motion reminded Hux of a deer his father had shot when he was young, the first time he’d taken him hunting. His father preferred to hunt with a bow. The doe had died slowly. He shuddered at the memory, surfaced and gone again in a flash. Instead, he focused on the man beside him.

“Kylo?”

His eyes flicked open, unseeing. Each breath seemed to rattle in his throat, as though it never made it to his lungs, and Hux reached for his face to try and check that he was still breathing.

“Kylo.” If Hux had been startled upon waking, he was terrified by the wet streaks he found on Kylo’s cheeks. “Kylo, wake up!”

Hux reached for his hand and shoulder, trying to drag Kylo out of whatever nightmare he was in. Kylo’s hands were bundled up in fists, as though he could fight off the thing that shook him to his core.

The shaking subsided slowly as Kylo woke up. His breathing deepened and he relaxed, a slow sigh catching in his throat.

“You awake?”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

* * *

Hux returned with the kettle full of hot water and a couple different packets of herbal teas. Kylo sat on the bed, cross-legged, staring blindly at his phone.

“Here. Have something with me.”

Kylo’s voice was tight. “What don’t you get about this? I’m fine. Fuck off.”

Hux could see that he wasn’t getting anywhere with an approach that focused on Kylo. The ass threw barriers up every time he tried to talk him down or help.

Perhaps a different approach, then.

“This isn’t for you, idiot. You woke me up with whatever that was.” Hux put teabags in each of the mugs, ignoring Kylo’s annoyed glare. “It’s for my sake, not yours. Hot drinks help me sleep, at least if they don’t have caffeine.”

It was an odd spin to put on things, but to Hux’s surprise, it worked. Kylo reluctantly took the proffered mug, even listening to Hux’s mild warning about it being too hot. His hands curled around it, scarred knuckles and wide palms nearly engulfing it.

Putting the kettle on his desk, he wrapped his hands around his own mug for the warmth. The ceramic was plain and white but for the cheap-looking banana print of a shitty apartment rental company, where Hux had lived for a year and hated. Still, the mug was ceramic, breakable. It looked like it belonged there. Despite having similarly long hands to Kylo’s, his were spindly, made for a keyboard or the pistol grip of his epee or the ceramic of a mug full of tea.

He stood there looking at Kylo for a second before moving to sit down. Despite the aggressive front that Kylo put up, he somehow looked small, sitting there on the bed in nothing but his boxers, shoulders slumped in defeat as he looked down at the mug of tea in his hands.

Hux waited til his own had cooled, then drank, watching Kylo in his peripheral vision. He tried the tea and started to sip it more regularly as he realized it wasn't half bad. He didn’t exactly calm down, but some of the tension seemed to loosen.

When the tea was gone, Hux put the mugs on his desk by the kettle, resolving to take them to the kitchen in the morning. He persuaded Kylo to curl back up with him through a complaint about the cold.

“Your feet are fucking cold.” Kylo grumbled, the first words that finally sounded almost normal from him.

“Yeah, well, you’re warm. I’m stealing your body heat. Now shut up and let me sleep.”

Hux didn’t let himself sleep until he felt Kylo’s breathing slow and relax as sleep finally claimed him again.

He woke up to an empty bed.

* * *

Another week passed that way. Then two. Kylo grew ever more agitated, his visits regular but everything else about him seeming unbalanced. The nightmares seemed to occur with surprising regularity, and there was nothing Hux could do to coax an explanation out of him.

So when Kylo’s thrashing woke him, he would take a deep breath and go turn the kettle on. He still lied to Kylo, saying that it helped him go back to sleep. Maybe Kylo knew, maybe he didn’t. Either way, he was starting to run painfully low on chamomile tea.

They’d been seeing each other for a month when Carol seemed to realize that Kylo spent at least half of his nights at their place. If she’d asked, Hux would have complained about how Kylo sprawled out and took up most of his goddamn bed, although he would have omitted the detail that he only sprawled on the better nights. On the bad nights, he curled in on himself next to Hux, and there was little to be done to relax him.

One of the few nights Kylo wasn’t around, they sat in the kitchen, talking as Hux put clean dishes away and Carol made a bowl of popcorn for them to split. They’d wound up on the subject of Kylo, and she seemed worried. “How’s he taking things?”

“Well, it’d probably help if he was talking to me about his actual life, but as far as I can tell, it could be worse.”

“I mean, yeah, technically. Things can always be worse.” Carol stopped dead. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

Hux’s hand shook as he put the pot he was holding away, very carefully. “What should he have told me?”

“They’re moving his dad.”

Ah. So Kylo had been serious when he’d said family stuff. Hux continued putting dishes away. “Where?”

“Somewhere on the East Coast. His mom wants him closer.”

Conflict twisted in Hux’s chest. “Is Kylo moving with him?”

Carol shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s got his roots around here. Same reason he stuck around here after his dad died.”

The pan he was holding fell from suddenly numb fingers, crashing onto the counter before rebounding to the floor. “What?”

“His dad? You know, the accident a couple…” she looked at him and a light dawned. “Oh no. How did you not know?”

“His dad is dead? How was I supposed to know? He never told me! Every time family came up he refused to talk about it!” He looked at her, almost afraid to ask. “What happened?”

“Some sort of accident, he was working on a car and it slipped somehow.” She hesitated. “Kylo’s the one that found him.”

“Oh. Shit.” Hux sat down on one of the barstools. “Well. That explains a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“He gets these…really bad nightmares.” Guilt crept up his throat. “He won’t tell me about them, but he panics and sometimes doesn’t wake up. He said they’ve been worse lately, but wouldn’t tell me why.”

Carol’s eyes widened. “They’re moving his dad. Like, his body.”

His chest seemed to constrict. “Shit.”

* * *

As hard as he tried to coax an explanation out of Kylo, it was like talking to a wall. Even when Kylo lashed out and said things to be purposefully hurtful, Hux tried to handle it. He really did.

For the most part, he deflected Kylo’s attempts at creating a conflict.

* * *

“Do you ever turn the heat on in here? It’s cold as fuck, and that’s me saying it.”

“I’m a broke-ass college student, it doesn’t need to be over 60. Here, I’ve got an extra sweater. And a blanket.”

* * *

“How did your midterms go?”

If the look Kylo gave him was anything to judge by, not well. “Shit. But whatever.”

* * *

“So Calrissians invited a bunch of people to their place for the holidays. What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Uhm. Going home to see my parents, I think.” There, Hux shied away from the topic entirely. The lack of an invitation for Kylo to join was like a gaping hole in the conversation. He couldn’t take Kylo home to meet his parents.

The unspoken implication hung in the air. Kylo’s resentment seemed to hang there too.

* * *

He deflected Kylo’s attempts at creating a conflict for almost a week before he snapped back.

“Look, I really need to get a preliminary draft for this done. I know you don’t have stuff to do, but if I don’t get this done Professor Daala is going to be pissed. Like, kick me out of the lab levels of pissed.”

Kylo sat up from where he’d been flopped on the couch. “What, like you’re the only one that has deadlines and things to do?”

Hux couldn’t keep from sighing in exasperation. “It’s not like you’re ever stressed about deadlines anyway.”

Kylo bristled. “I know you don’t think shit of me, or what I do. But the intellectual elitism? You can drop that shit, because at least I’m paying my own way through life.”

“So because I’m on scholarship and my parents gave me a loan for the rest, you think there’s something wrong with that?”

“Have you ever had to work for shit in your life? You could fail out tomorrow, and your parents would catch you. You’ve got a safety net, you can afford that kind of shit.”

“What, because I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am?”

Kylo climbed to his feet, finally getting the fight he’d been after for weeks. “Look at you, like you’ve ever worked a day in your damn life.”

“Right, fine. If we’re doing this, let’s just get it all out, shall we?” Hux closed his laptop and climbed up, following Kylo’s irritated pacing to the kitchen. “Any other problems you have with me? Anything else you want to tell me? You might as well just air it now.”

The gauntlet had been thrown, and Kylo was ready. “You act like I’m so much less than you, like I can’t handle my own shit!” His voice rose wildly.

“I’m trying to tell you, you don’t have to!”

“I’ve managed my entire life, you’re no fucking different than anyone else!” Kylo was shouting now.

Hux very nearly yelled back at him, to put an end to his stupid, illogical argument, and all of his stupid drama. Instead, he bit down on his anger and snapped, “How do you figure that?”

“Everything you do is full of this fake-pity shit, and I don’t need it!”

“Great. If that’s what you think it is, fan-fucking-tastic. Anything else?” Hux forced himself to stay in control. The moment he let Kylo have control, it was over.

Kylo didn’t let it go. “And another thing! Who the fuck leaves their friends alone on Thanksgiving?”

“Don’t you have other friends? Do you even consider me a friend? Or am I just some kind of joke to you?” he snarled, “Why would I invite you? You won’t even talk to me about your life, it’s like I barely know you. Why on earth would I want my parents to meet you?” Hux could feel it. This argument had taken a turn down a path they were going to regret, and was hurtling toward an ugly end. And somehow, despite knowing what was coming, Hux couldn’t stop it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to stop it.

Kylo stared at him, then his face twisted. “Most of the time people want their parents to meet the people they give a shit about. But you’re fucking ashamed of me. You know, at first I thought it was just because of me, but no. I almost forgot, you’re bi.”

His words had a vicious sting, aimed to hurt as much possible. Hux felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest. He couldn’t even think of a response. Of all the people he’d expected this from, it hadn’t even occurred to him that Kylo would be like this.

“Your parents probably don’t even know, do they? Dated enough girls that they think you’re straight? They probably don’t even know that their perfect, precious little Brendol has been fucking around with guys?” His tone was mocking to the extreme.

Hux could feel the rage rising in his throat, the blinding need to lash out and cause as much pain as possible. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about my parents. And at least I’m on speaking terms with them. You don’t talk to your mom, and your dad is dead.”

The words were icy cold and bitter, aimed to hit Kylo like a physical slap to the face. He stood there for a moment, gaping at Hux.

The punch, when it came, was blindingly fast.

The pain was immediate and blinding, splintering up through his face and cheekbone. Hux slammed back-first into the counter, his head cracking on the corner of the cabinet. Stunned, he shook his head, desperately trying to clear it. The pain persisted, spiking through the back of his head.

If Kylo wanted a fight, he’d get one. Hux knew what he could do, but the absolute fury that seemed to expand in his chest buoyed him up, pushing him forward. Fuck it, he was done with putting up with this. He braced himself and snarled, “That’s how it is? Do your worst, you pathetic fuck.”

Kylo stared, his expression shifting from anger to fear as everything seemed to slow. “No. No, I didn’t mean to…”

“Then get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“But…”

“GET OUT.”

Kylo beat a terrified retreat, his face twisting in disgust at his own actions. He didn’t even put his boots on, just grabbing them from the doormat and slinging his jacket over his shoulders before slinking out.

The adrenaline that had flooded Hux’s veins lasted only a few moments past the door closing.

Hux slumped against the counter, the world rushing in. Kylo had hit him. He’d punched him in the face. What the actual fuck was his problem?

His sleeve felt warm and he looked down at the counter, only to find that his arm was resting in a slowly growing puddle of blood. He reached back to touch where his head had hit the cabinet, and his hand came away slicked with red. Not just a little scrape worth of blood either. Swearing, he grabbed a dish towel and pressed it to the back of his head.

He made it to the bathroom, the towel pressed to his bleeding scalp, which didn’t show any signs of stopping. He could taste metal. Fuck, his face hurt. Glancing in the mirror, he realized blood was running down his face from the gash in his cheek. He tried to hold another bit of the towel to his face, but the blood from his cheek dripped down anyway.

The wall provided welcome support, and he slumped against it, sliding to the floor. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, the anger fading into numbing misery. Eventually, there was a noise Hux couldn’t place from the living room. The world seemed to be hazy.

“Hux?!” Carol’s voice.

“What?”

“What’s with the blood in the kitchen, are you alright?” She didn’t even knock. She opened the bathroom door, slow enough to make sure he wasn’t sitting on the floor behind it. Her quick intake of breath told him all he needed to know. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“More like who.”

“Oh my god.” She stood in the doorway, looking panicked for a moment, before turning away. “I’m going to grab you ice.”

When she got back, Carol dropped down next to him. It hurt to move his face, but he grimaced as she helped him hold the ice pack to the cloth he held to his head. “How bad does it look?”

“Uh. Not good.” She rummaged around under the sink and came back with a mirror. He had a slowly purpling bruise on the side of his face, swooping down under his eye where the blood was quickly pooling. On top of all of that, the line that had split along his cheekbone was still bleeding.

“It’s my own fault.”

“No. This kind of shit is never the victim’s fault.”

“I said some serious shit.”

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t bring up his dad…?”

“Oh, that’s only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you? Both of you?” She shook her head as she pulled the cloth away from the back of his head. “This is really nasty. Oh god. I’m so sorry. I never should have set you two up, I should’ve known it would blow up.”

“No, there was no way you could have.”

“We need to get you to the ER. You need to get stitched up.”

“They’re going to ask questions.”

She grimaced, but nodded. “Then we’ll figure out a lie on the way there. I’ll say I wasn’t there but that I trust you. Come on, I'm taking you in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: In real life, if you are in this situation, please don’t protect your abusive significant other. If you can do it safely, cut your ties and run. If not, please seek help. Don't try to stay with them, don't try to 'fix things'.
> 
> That being said, as someone who has left and gone back to an abuser, I understand. I'm not looking for input on what's right or wrong or anything of the sort. I recognize it and I'm aware of it. So now I'm writing about it. Call it a coping mechanism, call it whatever you want. This is how the story goes.
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Kylux is, without question, an abusive ship. They might be relateable as individual characters, but here's your reminder that neither Hux or Kylo is one of the good guys, and they're each hurtful in their own way. I think it goes without saying, but I'm going to say it anyway just to make sure we're clear on this: I don't condone their behavior.
> 
> On that note, Hux is smart, but he thinks he can handle this and makes poor decisions. He also thinks it’s his fault. If you’re ever in this situation please understand: it isn’t your fault. Even if you did something to provoke your abuser, you don't deserve this.
> 
> Comments, questions, and corrections always welcome!


	8. Timeout

A/N Here, we take a sidestep from the normal story with an aside from Carol's POV. 

Warnings for physical abuse and heavy drinking.

[Right here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6022366)

Carol and Hux talk their way through a lot of shit in this chapter, and technically it's outside of the normal narrative (...technically). Several months will pass before we pick back up with Hux's narrative, so this helps fill in the middle mess.

DFoC will resume with Kylo's POV in Ch 9.


	9. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: the end repercussions of the incident of abuse seen in ch 7/8, brief mentions of self-harm, a short segment of suicidal thoughts, and a flashback of a major character death. This is not an altogether nice chapter.
> 
> Kylo's going to take some time and try to get his shit together, and this is the turning point. It involves taking a good look at his past. His past involves his parents, the Calrissians, and a fair amount of the Calrissian kids (Lando 'Chance' Calrissian Jr and Lucky, who you've met before). Bear with me. The unpleasantries are spaced out by good memories. A spoonful of sugar, or something, you know?
> 
> To quote Labyrinth, "...the way forward is sometimes the way back."

The world seemed to slow and he lashed out, a cornered animal reacting in rage and fear.

Hux’s voice snapping like a whip was the trigger that jolted him back to reality. “Do your worst, you pathetic fuck.”

Kylo took a step back fearfully, realizing exactly what he’d done. The words were tripping off his tongue, unthinking, “No. No, I didn’t mean to…”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“But…”

“GET OUT.”

Fear, not of Hux, but of himself, seemed to grip him. He turned tail and ran.

* * *

Kylo drove. He got on his bike despite the looming nightfall and hit the pavement, leaving town to disappear behind him without a second glance back into the darkness. Technically, he knew where he was going. He drove north. It was enough.

The things running through his head made him want to be sick. The reality of what had happened was like a vise, slowly clamping down on his chest, cracking his ribs and ripping him apart.

He drove north, eventually catching 94 east, practically flying through the darkness. He caught 131 and trailed north again, hours melting away with the road in front of him. It was nearly four hours before he stopped, and it was only because he needed gas. He wasn’t even hungry enough to stop for food. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

The thrum of the Victory under him, usually a comfort in the worst of times, was a bitter reminder that everyone close to him was in danger. Most people got hurt. His father had died. The reminder didn’t help.

* * *

It had long been dark when he finally arrived where he was going. It was cold and so late it was early. His fingers fumbled with the key in the door.

Driving through the local area had revealed a quiet little town. November was anything but the summer tourist season, and only the locals had need of stores. His earliest memories of the area were of a smaller community, but it had since been built up. At least it was quiet as winter rapidly approached.

The house wasn’t a particularly large place, one Lando and his father had bought years ago, back before the property prices in the area had skyrocketed. It’d been years since he’d been there, but something had driven him back. For some reason, it felt _right_ in a world that felt wrong.

He found a flashlight above the fridge and went to throw the breakers. With the power on, the place seemed a bit less deathly quiet and cold. It was too late and too dark out to deal with turning the water back on that night, so he simply settled in, vowing to take care of everything in the morning.

It was late and he couldn’t be bothered to pull clean sheets down from the linen closet. He settled for the blankets he could find and curled up on the well-worn couch, folding into himself up with practice born in the years he’d grown up here.

Sleep didn’t entirely elude him, but danced in and out of his reach for hours. He saw snatches of dreams and nightmares, off and on like a lightswitch.

_A pool of blood, red and slick, reflecting the struts and pipes of the ceiling. A smell of grease and iron._

_Piercing green-grey eyes, glassy and cold. The smell of soap._

_The water of the lake, smooth and cool as a mirror. The stench of hot summer algae and lake-rot._

The dream splintered, leaving him awake and shivering in the cold. He dug another blanket out of the linen closet and curled up again, vowing to hunt down a space heater if he were to stay here for any real amount of time. Sleep dragged him down again, slightly more pleasant at first.

_A fire, the smell of ash in the air, the near-scorching heat of it on his skin, even though he knew he stood too close. Laughter, high and happy._

_Hair lit up like the trapped rays of the sun in the morning light. Softness. Warmth._

_The comforting, smoky smell of the leather jacket, fading all too fast as he wore it._ The warmth of the jacket stayed, but the familiar smell faded. The memory of the first time he put it on and realized he couldn’t smell anything but the leather, the crushing pain of losing his dad all over again.

That pain spiraled into another memory. _A hand in his hand, rough and worn by life and too many years working on machines, the grip loosening and failing, slowly growing cold._

_A hug, warm and comforting, from someone taller than him._ It was all-enveloping and protective, as though the person holding him would shelter him from the memories that trailed him like hounds.

_Eerie ice cold hands, dancing their way across his chest, settling about his throat and pressing down._

He woke gasping for air, only to glance down at his watch. 4:30.

Fuck it. The sun wasn’t up yet, but he wasn't going back to sleep. Might as well get moving.

* * *

The memories of this place were both new and old, the most recent of them barely four years old.

He spent the morning trying to finish opening the place up as reality set in. First things first. He needed to get the water turned on, bleed the pipes and let any remaining air out. For that, he needed a wrench.

The garage was full of bits and pieces, almost all of them familiar. He hunted for a wrench, finding all too many memories instead.

He didn’t expect to find the canvas and foam bag, familiar and almost comforting. He unzipped it, dazed, and stared at it in the dim gold of the single lightbulb. Glossy black fiberglass glinted, as clean and beautiful as the day he’d packed it away. Four years ago. Had it really been that long? Of course it had, it'd been only about a week before…

His mind veered away and he busied himself opening the storage bag the rest of the way. Hell. He’d almost forgotten how much he’d loved this board. Glossy black and gunmetal, with swirls of red like ink dropped in water.

It’d taken forever to save up for, but he’d done it, mowing lawns, helping his dad in the shop, anything he could do to put a bit of extra cash in his pocket. It’d been a Hyperlite, and he’d only been able to buy it when it went on sale because it was a year old’s model. Even years later he could remember the stats on the thing, he’d stared at them for ages. Super light, three stage rocker, perfect for getting the aggressive extra pop he’d wanted. He'd practically lusted after the board for ages.

It was with near-fondness that he remembered the first time he’d tried it, years before he’d actually put muscle on. He’d gone all lanky and awkward, but still too skinny. Lando and his dad had taken them out, and he’d slipped the new boots on, glad to finally have some that fit his too-large feet properly. He’d been thrilled with the way the board handled, like a glass-cutting dream each time he took it out of the wake.

At least, he’d been thrilled until he completely underestimated the pop he could get on it. In combination with the new weight, he overestimated the power he needed to put into a jump and over-rotated, catching and edge and whiplashing into the water face-first. His neck and head had hurt for days. Chance had teased him for being a showoff for even longer.

He looked up at the other cases strung up on the ceiling. There was Chance’s board, and Chance’s old board, which Lucky had commandeered when she sold her first one. There, on the other side of the garage, was Lucky’s ski, the one she’d used when she skied competitively for OSU.

Another memory, entirely unbidden but not unwelcome, smacked him in the face. Their dads had been quite good skiers, and they’d pushed the kids to learn. None of them really wanted to, and Lucky was the only one who really had the patience to learn. Ben and Chance had been interested in wakeboarding, learning bigger, higher tricks that you simply couldn’t do on skis. Sure, it wasn’t as fast as skiing, and neither of them ever learned to barefoot like Lucky did, but that was just how they were.

They’d get up as early as they could, eat breakfast, and go out on the lake to catch glass as soon as the fishing regulation hours were up. They all had their licenses by the time he was in high school, and their parents had been able to sleep in. He couldn’t count the number of early mornings they’d spent out on the boat, Lucky claiming the first run because she was ‘competing’. Even then, Ben heard enough about the competitions and the after parties not to think much of them. Still, nobody could say she wasn’t good, cutting back and forth through the lake with precision and ease.

Chance had been bigger and stronger, and he always got the hang of new tricks faster, but Ben had worked as hard as he could to keep up. He’d struggled to get the kind of punch Chance had, never quite having the same sort of power in his legs, but there were any number of things he could do better. He was a bit more agile, a bit more flexible.

He looked down at the board in his hands again. The realization sank in that he hadn’t been out on the lake since his dad had died, and that he was horribly out of practice. He wasn’t even sure he’d want to go out, given the chance.

He zipped the board back in its case, suddenly struck by the canvas bag’s resemblance to a body bag.

Stomach twisting uncomfortably, he found a wrench and left the garage.

* * *

Starting the water in the house was a pattern, and it felt good to get something working again. He walked around the house to the well. It was an easy enough process. Remove the bolts, remove the cover plate. Close the shutoff t-valve on the stem. Tighten the wellhead back up to seal it to the pipe that entered the house.

Back inside, it was a pattern he’d seen Han follow time and time again, but only done a couple times himself. Close the valves, then open them one at a time, leaving them slightly open before turning the pump on. Let the air bleed out of the pipes. Tie the water softener back in. Turn the pump on, let it run until the bladder tank was full.

He sat in the kitchen and made a grocery list, letting the pump run awhile to clear the antifreeze out of the lines and cycled the water softener. Then he sat, looking out at the lake, trying to figure out where to go from there.

Memories of the last few weeks invaded, unwelcome but undeniable. He’d gotten the call about his mother’s plans to have his dad reinterred closer to her and Uncle Luke. It’d been like some sort of nightmare wakeup call, like he’d been scraping by the last few years with the knowledge that no matter how badly he fucked up, he could always go talk to Han without being judged.

That last thread to his old life being snapped sent him into a spiral.

He’d been struggling in classes, not because he wasn’t smart, but because he just didn’t care enough to spend the time he needed on them. He was passing up until that point, but the news that they were going to move Han came at the worst possible time. He’d spent days trying to get everything straightened out, to find some sort of legal loophole that would prevent his mother from moving him. There was nothing.

He’d even swallowed his pride enough to call her. Each time he called her cell phone, it went to voicemail. Each time he called the office, it was answered by an aide. Kylo couldn’t get a hold of her, couldn’t tell her that she couldn’t do this to him, she couldn’t take him. She couldn’t take Han.

Kylo had talked to Lando, who had seemed to sympathize but not understand. Lucky had been no better. It wasn’t that they were callous or unfeeling, but they didn’t seem to understand. He needed to be able to go talk to Han, sometimes that was the only thing that held him together.

In the end, his efforts had done nothing. He’d received the notification of the official date of transfer in the mail after it was all a done deal, and even though he’d rushed in to the cemetery offices to try negotiating with them again, it was already too late. They’d already moved him for reinterment.

He’d sat by the suddenly empty plot for hours, looking at the churned ground. The willow he’d always sat under in the secluded corner of the cemetery was just as welcoming, but the reason he sat there was gone. Han was gone.

Two days later, when he realized he’d missed two of his midterms in the blur of everything that had happened, it had been an almost painless blow. Numbness had seemed to creep over him, like a painless chill. He didn't bother studying for the others.

Kylo sat on the porch and shoved his hands in his pockets to fend off the chill, finding a piece of paper he didn’t remember in one of them. It was a piece of a receipt, torn in half and scribbled on. On closer inspection, he found the writing was Hux’s near impossible to read scrawl. Thin, spiked, and horribly untidy, a direct contrast to the careful, precise control Hux held over his own life.

His hand clenched almost involuntarily and he crumpled that paper. Of course he’d fucked it up. When in his life hadn't he fucked up something that mattered? Kylo hadn’t told him anything about his dad, but he’d found out. It didn’t matter how, he’d found out and brought it up at the time it hurt most.

The bite of Hux’s words was still there, but his own actions had been far worse. Words hurt like a motherfucker, but he’d punched Hux. In the face. There had been blood.

He’d fucked up again. Royally fucked up, this time.

In a moment of self-loathing, he thought that perhaps it was better he was alone now. The holidays were coming up, and he was going to spend them alone. It would be alright. The ache that settled in his chest made its presence known, but it fired like a near-dead battery, sparking up every once in awhile when properly prompted, but unresponsive the rest of the time.

* * *

Kylo seemed to wake fully with the sunrise, knowing that the water likely wasn’t clean enough to drink yet and nothing in town would be open until 8. Coffee or tea or something warm was out of the picture, then. He sat in the three seasons room, wrapped in a blanket, mentally noting that the ‘three seasons’ that gave the room its name were everything but the oncoming winter.

He went into town around 8, slinging an old hiking backpack on his back before climbing on the bike. He bought fresh water and enough food to see him through a week.

He couldn’t see himself leaving sooner than that.

* * *

The lake was incredibly still, like the glass they always begged Lando and his father to take them out on as teenagers. He remembered happier times in that place, enough memories to drown him if he wasn’t careful. Kylo didn’t want to remember, but Ben? Ben sank into the memories like they were home. For Ben, they _were_ home, one of the few places his family still existed. A family and friends, still together in the memories.

Back when his parents had still been together. Back when his dad was still alive and his mom hadn’t been consumed by her career quite so much. Maybe it was Han’s death that did it. Maybe not.

Either way, they hadn’t spoken, really spoken, in years.

* * *

The docks had been pulled out for the winter, and were stacked near the small shed. The yard itself was of moderate size, with a couple of the willows that were common at the waterside and one white birch, dry and peeling.

He through the yard, down the water’s edge. They knew the neighbors, they wouldn’t mind if he was on their property. While he was at it he picked up a number of the branches that had been knocked down by fall storms, falling back into patterns that had once been familiar to Ben Solo. He’d been a kid almost eager to help people, to make things better. He’d grown into an adult that knew he was a danger to the people around him.

Somehow, it didn’t squash the instinct to be helpful as he walked.

He did a loop around the neighborhood, finding himself walking down the narrow lane again, headed back to the house with an armful of branches cleaned from empty yards and a head full of memories. Most of the branches got dumped in the fire pit, but he kept a couple of the thinner willow switches, twisting them into a loop as he looked at the lake and simply tried to breathe. Even with the cold, the brittle smell of the reeds and water seemed to drag him back in time, and his mind wandered.

He remembered the first time he’d ever worked on a boat, a classic Ski Nautique from the 70's that his dad had picked up from someone on a somewhat shady deal. He could still remember the lines of the thing, the horrendous bright red of the faux leather seats. He remembered how much shit Lando had given his dad, but it hadn’t seemed to be much more than a gentle reminder that Han worked a ridiculous number of projects at the same time.

Kylo…no, Ben remembered tubing up here as a kid. He remembered being towed behind another boat entirely, Lando’s sleek inboard. The smell of gasoline and seaweed stuck to the platform at the back and the shriek of other kids rang in his ears, memories dredged up from the lake.

He’d been the smallest one, in those days. Lucky had hit a growth spurt and shot past him, meaning he had dibs on the tube that made it easiest to jump. He and Chance had been the daredevils of the group, and once he was able to claim the smaller tube before Lucky, he could try all kinds of stupid stuff. They’d always done jumps, but the small tube was the kind you could barrel roll on, if you were small, strong, and fast enough.

He could still remember Chance’s shout of victory the first time he’d pulled it off. It’d been one of the high points of that summer, and Ben had been the only one of the three of them to ever make it work.

Of course, the rest of that summer had been a mess. Chance had tried to jump and landed on him, slamming his face down at just the right angle to break his nose. Tears had streamed from his eyes, not exactly from pain, more from the pressure on his sinuses. They’d rushed him back to the house, where his dad had ushered him inside, grabbed an ice pack, and packed him into the car. He managed to get him out the door before his mom and Mrs. Calrissian got back from the grocery store. His mom had cried when they got back from the hospital.

That was the first time he’d had a real black eye, and he didn’t just have one, he had two. He’d worn them like badges of honor.

Reality came back a bit. The wreath of willow branches seemed too heavy in his hands. He left it on the etched memorial stone next to the youngest of the willow trees, a sapling, only a couple years old. It was the one for Mrs. Calrissian. They'd never had one made for his dad, not for the lake. His plaque had stayed with his body, and they’d moved it when they moved him.

The chill finally set in. He went inside.

* * *

That afternoon, he ran.

He ran until he felt like he couldn’t run anymore, and then he ran back. The sun was setting by the time he was finally close to the house. Glancing at his watch, he found he’d been out for nearly four hours. Everything hurt, his joints, his muscles, everything. Somehow it was a reminder that he could still feel something, even if it was pain and self-loathing.

He cooled down rapidly, the realization that it was nearly winter settling in. He’d worn gloves, but his fingers were stiff and numb with the cold, starting to burn in the mild warmth inside. He peeled his clothes off, damp with clammy sweat, and climbed into the shower. The water, once finally hot, smelled of sulfur and metal, but even so the heat was welcome.

The shivers never went away, even with the heat. He dragged a towel over his skin, feeling like the touch was sandpaper, like he wanted to scrape his skin off entirely. The release of the run seemed to wear off, and he crashed. Hard.

Nausea gripped him for a couple hours as he sat on the porch, shivering. Eventually it occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten that day, and he scraped himself up to go get food. After dinner, he walked out into the street and watched the sun fall behind the trees from the other side of the house.

He curled up in blankets and slept.

* * *

Memories seemed to blur together with the days. They rose like ghosts, popping up when he least expected them. As much as he disliked them, he threw himself into them, hoping they would make him feel something.

But there was nothing. Most of the memories left him numb, empty, like someone had used a retractor to open up his ribs and scooped everything out.

He ran again the next day, hoping to feel something again. In desperation, he fell back into old habits, patterns he’d have sworn he’d broken. It was all too easy to dig the blade of his knife into his heel, although avoiding the old scar tissue among the callouses was rather more difficult.

Hours passed in the quiet sounds of shoes on the pavement and the soft rush of breath between chapped, then split, lips. He could feel the pain in his heels, but it was a dim stabbing sensation. The burn of breath in his lungs was dull, the pain in his legs a sluggish thump on the road.

Again, he ran until he didn’t think he could run anymore.

And then he ran back.

A couple miles from the house real pain finally began to set in. The throbbing of swollen joints settled in his knees and hips while the dull muscular ache soared into near-crippling pain that threatened to send him to the ground. The burn in his lungs flared to new levels and tears pricked at his eyes. As much as he hated it, he could _feel_. It was something.

When he finally got back, he tottered to the porch on shaky legs. He felt his pulse slow over the course of a blurry half hour, finally dropping back into a normal range. He peeled his shoes off, unfazed as they came away sticky with blood. Once he’d cooled down, he started to go through the same pattern he’d started the day before. Cool down. Strip down. Shower. Nausea. Food. Sleep.

He made it to step three before slowly collapsing to the shower floor as his legs refused to hold him up anymore. The bone-deep weariness that sank in weighed him down, threatening to crush him to death.

Time passed. He had no idea how long he sat there, the water plastering his hair flat and running in his eyes. The hot water ran out, and cold water was like a numbing flood that roused him.

The towel on the wall was barely within reach as his legs simply refused to behave, so he sat on the rug outside of the shower, trying to motivate himself to dry off. The chill and the goosebumps that covered his skin as proof of the cold were incentive enough.

He skipped step five and went straight to step six.

* * *

His dreams that night were of Hux. They stood on the porch of the house, out by the lake. Something about it felt inherently wrong. This was _his_ place and Hux, of all people, didn’t belong here. “You need to leave.”

Hux’s mouth twisted with bitterness and disdain. “Then let me leave.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

The redhead grabbed the screen door, flinging it open. As he turned his back, Kylo saw blood seeping down the back of his shirt from the hairline at the nape of his neck.

“Wait, you’re…!”

Hux turned back to him and Kylo reeled at the bruising and blood on his face. “This? This is your fault.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“It doesn’t matter what you meant, it’s what you did that matters.” His voice was icy cold, unforgiving. “Just like it doesn’t matter what happened to your dad. He’s dead, and it’s your fault. You know it is.”

“You don’t know that. Nobody knows that. Get _out of my fucking head_.”

Hux’s expression went from that cold, sharp anger to a sort of feverish grin. “Me? This was your fault from the start. You came after me.”

* * *

He woke to the squawking of geese on the lake, stopping as they flew south.

It was an old pattern he’d used in high school that kept him alive that week. Kylo used pain and complete disregard for his body to keep himself level. Pain was a simple thing to center on. It was easy to use the old excuse, the excuse he’d used when Han died and he felt too much, or couldn’t feel, or anything. Cracked heels. There was blood in his shoes because his heels were cracked.

The lie slipped on like an old coat. Ben recognized it and recoiled a bit, knowing it was a dangerous road to follow. Kylo relished it and let it in. He barely scraped through the next day’s run. If he’d been thinking properly, he’d have known it was the lack of fuel and rest that did it. Through the twisted mess of his brain, that failed to occur to him.

Instead, he felt it as weakness. He was weak, he was slow. So he ran further and crashed harder the next day. Sleep became blessedly dreamless.

The days seemed to bleed into each other and he no longer knew what day of the week it was. Friday? Perhaps. He’d let his phone die and felt no desire to charge it. What was the point? Who would bother trying to contact him? Nobody. He felt wrecked from the inside out.

When he woke in the mornings, if he didn’t run, he found himself sitting on the porch for hours on end. A ‘three seasons room’ as his mother had called it. When he grew restless, he went outside, taking the blanket with him, wrapping it about his shoulders in imitation of an aged king surveying his kingdom. He would sit under the massive willow and look out at the lake or at the sapling planted in the shade of the old tree.

It’d been four years since tragedy struck his father and only a couple since it had struck again in Mrs. Calrissian’s death. Her ashes had been scattered, but the memorial stone they’d placed for her near the base of the sapling willow was a place to reflect. It wasn’t quite the same as sitting under the willow near his father’s former plot, but it had some of the same calming influence.

He curled himself into a depression in the side of the large tree to block the wind and let his mind wander. Hours passed like that each day. It was a sort of meditation, staring out at the lake for hours on end.

The older willow was slowly succumbing to rot. When they had been kids, there had been a tire swing on one branch, where they’d twisted the rope as tight as they possibly could, bundled someone into the tire, and let it spin all the way down. The entire objective of the game was not to throw up, and he could remember plenty of times one of the three of them had lost. Even if you didn’t lose, you would lay on the ground, staring up at the branches, laughing and crying from the nausea.

The branch the swing had hung from had long since rotted out. The rest of the willow seemed to be dying slowly, the large branches succumbing to rot one by one.

Still, it was a comfortable place to spend time. At some points, his brooding turned inward. He’d known from the beginning he couldn’t give Hux what he wanted. Relationships never held up in his presence, dissolving like cotton candy dunked in water. Sometimes they exploded instead, like mentos and diet coke. Either way, they were something sweet gone wrong. Even other people’s relationships fell apart.

Like his parents. They were a prime example.

There had been one summer, before his freshman year of high school. Luke had come to visit, spending time with the family as everything slowly crumbled. He’d talked to Leia in hushed tones for hours on end, even as she slowly distanced herself from her husband and son.

Ben remembered it as the summer his parents separated and the raw pain of betrayal that went with it. Han had broken the news to him with little preparation, inadvertently ripping the wound open and leaving it to bleed.

He’d come home from a week of summer camp, unpacked, done laundry, and re-packed for the Calrissians’ place. As he bundled his things together in the foyer, getting ready to hitch a ride with Chance to go to a couple weeks of Lando’s usual summer boxing camp. It’d been a pattern since he’d turned 10, s crashing in their spare bedroom for a couple weeks while training and learning from the older boys.

When Chance arrived to pick him up, his father had briefly pulled him aside. “When you get back, things will be a bit different. I'm just letting you know in advance. Your mother and I just need some space, so I’m moving out.”

And that had been it. No discussion, no explanation, just a clean cut and a flat expression. Before the words had the chance to fully sink in, there had been a car horn honking in the driveway and Ben was grabbing his bag, unable to fully comprehend the words.

He’d sat in shock most of the way there. Chance had noticed, but hadn’t pressed him to explain. He’d nearly been thrown out of training camp for discipline problems the second day there. Mrs. Calrissian had been the first one to ease it out of him when she realized he wasn’t eating or sleeping. The woman had been a saint, and very possibly saved his life at that first genuinely low point.

Yet here he was, looking at her memorial plaque, left with nothing but memories of her.

* * *

He bought a pack of socks at the store to replace some of the bloody ones. He stood staring at packs of socks for almost five minutes before sighing and simply grabbing one. He’d had his gym bag shoved in the saddlebag of his bike, so at least he had a couple pairs of clothes. Laundry up until that point was little more than showering and soaping things up when the clothes he worked out in got particularly disgusting.

The days seemed to blend together, but he could recognize when his lone set of normal clothes were altogether too dirty. When he determined they needed to be washed, he wandered about in boxers and a blanket for awhile until he decided it was too damn cold for that shit.

Instead, he went hunting through long-unopened closets, trying to find something large enough for him to wear. He wasn’t particularly picky, anything warm would have worked. He found a sweater he didn’t recognize and held it out, judging it wide enough to fit over his shoulders before swinging it over his head.

Moving the sweater and agitating it for what must have been the first time in years let the faint scent of familiar cologne rise from the fabric. Being surrounded by old, familiar things for the last few days had left him open and vulnerable to the gut-wrenching memories associated with the scent.

The memory dragged to the front of his mind by the scent of the sweater sent him to the floor.

* * *

He’d come back from the deli down the street, sandwiches for lunch in his backpack. It was a Saturday, one of the ones his father would let him help in the shop. Going back out to the garage, it had been strangely quiet. He’d almost thought his dad had left, gone out for a part he was missing, something, but as he realized what was wrong the world seemed to stop.

Everything stilled for a single frozen second before it all came crashing down in hyperrealistic detail that became almost surreal.

There were screams echoing around the shop, ones he detachedly recognized as his own. There was a puddle of blood, glassy until he scooted into it, trying to reach out to catch his dad’s hand for some kind of response.

He’d had enough sense to call 911, near hysterical. With the way his dad was caught, there was nothing he could do but wait for the EMTs and the fire department, sobbing and praying to a god he’d never believed in for a response of some sort. He clung to Han’s hand, feeling helpless and childlike as he felt his father’s life slip away, one slow heartbeat at a time.

Han was gone when the paramedics arrived. Ben knew it from the moment the fire truck had pulled up outside. They had been too slow, and as he was pulled to the side his grip on his father’s hand slipped. The blood had soaked into his pants, shirt, and shoes, quickly growing sticky as it dried.

Ben sat on the cold concrete floor, not comprehending as they finally managed to lift the vehicle. Someone grabbed his head and turned him away as they did so, but it was too late to keep him from seeing the bloodied mess that was left of his father’s ribs.

They said afterward that it had been a mechanical error. That the wheel chocks had been in the wrong place, that they had somehow slipped, that something, somewhere, had gone wrong. An accident. The car had slid, pinched, and it had been a slow matter of Han bleeding out, alone in the garage.

And Ben? He had seen the end of it. He’d been there, felt the last fluttering of a pulse under his fingers. He’d felt it slow and stop, and even as he was led away his shoes still gripped the floor with each sticky step that left a bloody shoeprint.

More importantly, Ben knew he'd been the one to set the wheel chocks.

* * *

He sat slumped on the floor in his father’s sweater, the scene he’d tried so hard to forget playing over and over again behind his eyes.

Somewhere, he found the strength to force himself up from the floor on shaky legs. He made it to the couch before passing out.

* * *

He woke up. He ran. He stared at the lake. Sometimes he remembered to eat. He slept.

He repeated it all.

* * *

The morning he thought about killing himself, there was snow on the ground outside. It was Sunday, although he wouldn’t have been able to say so. The days had long since blended together, an amalgam of old memories and the present that he couldn’t quite tell apart. He couldn’t feel anything, numbness pervading every waking moment.

He didn’t think about it at first. His initial intention was to go jump in the lake, in the same punishing vein as the runs he’d been taking. There were only a couple inches of snow, and the lake wasn’t frozen over yet.

He waded in and grimaced at the familiar yet unpleasant, no, scratch that, painful sensation of cold water sinking into his outer extremities. A noise squeezed out of his throat involuntarily, an old, unpleasant memory of putting docks in the lake in March, just after the thaw. He clamped his jaw around a pained noise as he waded further and things shrank with the cold.

As awful as it was, pain seemed to cut through the grey haze that wrapped around his mind. He let it in. Walking deeper, he stopped when the water came up to his ribs, feeling the sand and bits of lake slime silting into the cuts in his heels, even as his feet numbed.

And that was when it occurred to him. It would be so easy. Here, of all places, it would be so easy to let go and end it. If he were lucky, they wouldn’t find him til spring, after the first thaw. Most of the lake and surrounding area were empty, the residents gone south for the winter, leaving summer homes closed and cold.

He waded up to his chin and let his legs give so he dropped under the surface, clenching his eyes shut and shaking violently at the creeping chill that seemed to get under his skin and make his muscles spasm against his will. How hard could it really be? To let go of everything, to just…end it all.

Images of the people in his life seemed to flicker as the air in his lungs started to burn. Most of them would be just fine without him, if not better for it. He caught on the thought of his mother, but pushed it away. She’d be better off without him. She’d mourned his dad for a time, and then she’d let go. She could do the same for him.

The Calrissians? They’d be fine. They’d been through worse, and the remaining three of them were close. They could handle it. It’d take a little time, but they would ultimately be fine.

Hux? Did he even feel anything? Nah. He wouldn’t give a shit.

And that was where he paused.

Carol.

Carol Phasma, who’d never been anything but nice to him, who would take it personally. Carol, who was a genuinely good person and would take it straight to heart if he stopped fighting.

He knew damn well how fucked up he was, how fucked up his entire life was. But he wasn’t that shitty of a person. And he’d promised to work with her on her left hooks, which were a mess.

And that was what kept him going.

Carol Phasma’s shitty left hooks. Something that, in the grand scheme of things, should have been completely inconsequential. But he'd made a promise. He stood up and burst from the water, wheezing and shaking violently with the cold as he struggled toward the shallows. His thoughts all coalesced into a burst of blinding pressure in his chest, a weight that wouldn’t let him breathe.

If someone had been standing next to him when he fully gained his feet and surged halfway from the lake, they would have seen him struggle. His jaw went rigid, his shoulders hunched forward, his face crumpled with grief that had been propagating like waves bouncing between his ribs for years.

The gasp, when it came, shuddered into his chest for a moment before rushing out as a wordless scream. Four years of anger and guilt and fear came tumbling out in a single anguished exhalation that echoed across the empty lake.

Most of the anger and spite that had been holding him together for years went out with the scream, and he found himself wavering, suddenly feeling weak and raw, like the cold water had ripped his skin from flesh. He summoned the strength to drag himself to the water’s edge and climbed out, pulling on energy from somewhere deep and shivering violently against the cold as he shuffled toward the deck to grab his towel. The snow on his feet seemed to burn, but maybe that was a good thing.

* * *

The shower was scorching hot, but had never been more welcome. Going from the cold to the heat was utterly agonizing, like putting frozen fingers in hot water. The nerve pain seemed to grip him and rip through him like knives.

Once used to the water, it was like being born again. If he could have steamed his own skin off, he would have. After, he scrubbed the gashes in his heels, making sure they were clean of lake scum before bracing and dumping rubbing alcohol on them. The stabbing pain was welcome. He hissed as he cleaned himself up, taped his feet, and put clean socks on. Clean clothes. A sweater he recognized as Chance’s, one that didn’t seem quite as big as he remembered it being.

He forced himself to function.

_Ben_ forced himself to function.

Kylo had only ever been a front, a face to hide behind when Ben’s life had gone to shit. Kylo had allowed him to compartmentalize and deny, to hide the guilt and pain. Especially the guilt.

Of course, legally, as far as the world was concerned, he was ‘Kylo Ren Solo’. Every legal document he had said so. He’d changed it in a particularly spiteful month his senior year of high school, when he’d turned 18 and finished out his last year of school living in Lando’s basement.

Internally, Ben sighed and acknowledged that _maybe_ it had been a mistake. If he was going to be Kylo, he was going to have to make sure he wasn’t a complete dick.

And hell if that wasn’t going to take a lot of work.

* * *

Once he was dressed, he put water on the stove to boil. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d eaten.

Kylo looked at his phone, still blessedly silent. He struggled to remember what day it was and eventually gave up. He plugged it in and turned it on, anxiety curling its nasty claws around his chest. When the buzzing of incoming messages and missed calls stopped, he glanced at the date on the screen. Sunday. Right.

He flicked through messages as he waited for the water to boil. There were a ridiculous number of missed calls from people, and nearly thirty texts from Lucky. The last one of them, from early that same morning, made it clear just how serious she was.

_We’re going to the police to file a missing person report if you don’t fucking answer and I swear to god I’ll kill you if you’re not already dead if you don’t answer someone’s fucking text_

He snorted, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. He responded with a simple _I’m fine_

The water finished boiling and he tossed in some pasta. It was mere minutes before she’d responded _Where are you????_

_Out of town_

_No shit. Where?_

_Up north._

His phone fell silent and somehow, he knew that she understood. She knew exactly where he was.

Food, real food, was a good decision. It was almost an hour before she responded. _How long are you planning to stay there?_

_Awhile. Until I can get myself straightened out._

_I want you to check in with me every day_

He looked at the message, dimly realizing that she was worried about him.

_Alright_

_Promise?_

Pushing her away wouldn’t do him any good. _I promise._

He looked through the rest of his messages. With as many people as had tried to contact him, it didn’t much surprise him that there was nothing from Hux, although it stung a bit. Pain, though, he could handle. At least he felt something.

* * *

The next time he went to the store, he bought some flowers. They weren’t much, cheap pink carnations and sprigs of baby’s breath, but he sat on the porch and twisted the stems into a circle, same as the wreath he’d woven out of willow branches a couple days before. The leaves had dried in the cold, frosty and dry and dusted with snow he brushed away.

It wasn’t much, but he left the loop of flowers on top of the plaque with the wreath of willow branches. She’d deserved better.

* * *

Kylo checked in with Lucky every day. Sometimes they talked, sometimes it was nothing but a text telling her he was still in one piece. At first, she was pissed off, but after a couple days she seemed to understand why he’d done it.

He’d left because he needed to remove himself from the situation, and he was fortunate enough to be able to do it. He had enough to live on his savings for awhile, and he talked Lucky into going in to the auto shop where he worked part time and explaining the situation to the owner. It hadn’t gone particularly well, but they’d granted him temporary leave.

Everything finally slowed. He still ran every day, but not in the way he did the first week. It wasn’t the only thing keeping him sane. He went into the town for food and even dropped by the library. His old library card, somehow, was still active. There were a couple books sitting on the table he’d picked up on a whim that he found himself reading to help pass the time.

It took days until his mind was finally parsing things properly. More specifically, it took another two weeks. The days didn’t blend together the way they had, but everything about the house had a certain kind of timeless preservation about it.

The memories he’d confronted in the first week had been the worst, and those that were left were much better. Summers as a child, both good times and bad, he let back into his life.

_Ben_ let them back into his life.

* * *

_I’m coming up to check in on you_

The text came as he was eating breakfast. He looked at his phone for a long minute, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he settled for _Why?_

_Because I’m worried about you being up there alone, and I have a couple days off_

* * *

He saw her pull up to the drive from where he’d curled on the couch. He glanced around, making sure anything she might be upset about was safely hidden. His shoes were tucked away in his duffel bag, and although he’d started drinking a bit in the evenings, he’d put the bottle of gin up in the cabinet out of sight.

Lucky opened the door as he climbed up to take her bag. “Thanks.” She shot him a relieved grin for a moment before it vanished. “You look…rough.”

He’d seen himself in the mirror. He hadn’t shaved in nearly three weeks, and his hair, which had already been on the longer side for him, was nearly to his shoulders. Toss all of that on top of the weight he knew he’d dropped and she was right. Not that he'd admit it. “I’m fine.”

Lucky grimaced. “If all of this,” she waved her hands at him, “is you being ‘fine’, then I don’t want to know what you look like wrecked. You look like shit, Ben.” The name still struck a sour note, but he stayed silent as she kept talking. “You look like shit and you sound like shit and, if I’m being totally honest with you, you acted like shit before you left town too.”

“Thanks.”

“Also, facial hair? Not a good look on you.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. This was going better than he’d expected. “Again, thanks.”

“You know people were freaking out looking for you…?”

Yeah, nope. That was the line. “Do me a favor and shut up for just…just a minute. You just got here. Don’t do this to me.”

She crossed her arms stubbornly. “No. You’ve been up here alone too long already. Nobody’s been around to spit the truth in your face.”

He slumped down onto the low couch, sagging like a wet paper doll. “Remind me why I said you could come up?”

“This place is mine too. And you like me.”

“Yeah, alright,” he said. “Don’t get too carried away.”

* * *

Lucky settled in quickly, but she didn’t waste time getting to the point. Only a couple hours had passed when he found himself facing the problems he’d run from.

“Ben. You don’t have to do this alone. I know you feel like you do, but you don’t. I’m here for you, my dad is there for you. Hell, even Chance would be there for you if you’d just let him. And Carol.”

“Carol, I’m sure, has enough on her hands.”

“As surprised as I’m sure you are, she actually gives a shit about you. Personally, I’m not quite sure why, but I think it might have something to do with considering herself your friend.”

“Look, we both know the people I’m close to tend to get hurt. It happens. So I removed myself.”

She wasn’t taking that as an answer. “Sometimes things happen that you can’t stop.”

Coming from the woman whose mother had died of cancer, there was a lot of pain behind the emotional punch in the gut.

* * *

They made it through the afternoon and into the evening before they got in another squabble.

Lucky sat across from him on the other small couch in the family room. “You can’t stop everything, but this? This shit with Hux? This is your fault. The other stuff isn’t, but this is, and you need to come clean about it.”

Kylo sat on the couch, arms crossed as she stared him down. “I have come clean about it. I fucked up, and I don’t want to fuck up again, so I removed myself.”

“But going forward, you have to do something more. Do what you can to fix it, you know?”

“There’s no fixing what I did.”

“You could at the very least apologize.”

* * *

Half an hour later and he was getting genuinely aggravated. “It’s better to just steer clear of people!”

“Look, everything else that's happened? Your parents? Your dad? Hell, my mom, all that shit? You can't keep blaming yourself because it’s not your fault!”

“You don’t know that!” he snapped back.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t…I don’t know if it was my fault or not.”

“What could possibly have been your fault?” she asked.

“The chocks…” he trailed off, unsure how to put it into words. “The accident. They slipped. They weren’t properly placed.”

“Right, I know.” She frowned.

“Unless he moved them, I’m the one that placed them.” He took a breath. There. The truth was out.

Lucky stopped dead. As the reality of it all dawned on her, she blinked and shook her head ever so slightly, a ‘no’ starting to form on her lips before she frowned it away and composed herself. When she finally gathered her words, they were straightforward. “What the actual fuck, Ben.”

“I don’t know.”

She sat down, her breath rushing out as she slumped next to him. For several long minutes, there was silence between them and he wanted to rip his own skin off, strip off every last bit of his identity and become someone else entirely. The anxiety of not knowing what she would think was terrifying. She would hate him, of course, but would she lash out the way he had? Would she run, the way he had?

Her voice wavered as she spoke. “How have you managed to live like this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is this why you’ve been so off? Four fucking years, you moron? Supposed guilt?”

He looked at her, the sting fresh. “Supposed? I don’t know if it was my fault, I’ll never know if it was my fault, but with the possibility that it was it’s…it’s like I killed him myself.”

Lucky stared at him for a second, then looked out at the lake. “Well shit.”

“Always supportive, Lucky. Thanks.”

“Can it with the sarcasm, Ben. I don’t need it right now. You don’t need it right now.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t have any spectacular insight on this one. It’s…a lot to process.”

“I’ve had four years. Take your time, be my guest.” He climbed to his feet, shoving down the bitterness and anger that threatened to resurface. “Want something to eat?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, what are you making?”

“I dunno. Haven’t decided yet.”

“I’ll help as soon as you have a plan. Just let me know.”

He snorted. “Nah, take your time, process the very real possibility that I’m at fault for my own father’s death, and then come try to talk to me.” The words were bitter, but there was a sort of relief that came from being able to verbalize them.

“It was an accident, even on the off chance...”

“But still, my fault.”

“Possibly. You’re worried about hurting the people around you inadvertently.” Her face lit with the new realization. “That’s why you ran.”

“I punched Hux out with barely a second thought.” The fight seemed to leave him with the admission, replaced by guilt and self-loathing. "It wasn't inadvertent."

“And you’re acknowledging it. More importantly, you don’t want to be like that.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s a bit too late.” Bitterness rose in his throat again.

Lucky came inside and closed the door out to the three seasons room. “Well…salvage what you can. Change yourself. It’s never too late to change yourself.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Well yeah. Everything is.”

Kylo rummaged about in the cabinets, pulling down cans of vegetables and soup stock. She sat down at the table, watching him. “There’s something still eating at you. Spill.”

He paused after pulling a stock pot out from one of the cabinets and turned to her. “I’m afraid.”

The sight of her at the table dragged a memory of card games at that table, of breaking one of the chairs and sticking it back together with hot glue and hoping none of the adults would notice. They’d noticed.

She spoke, bringing him back and grounding him again. “Yeah. I can tell,” she nodded. “The way I see it is, you may have already lost Hux, you may have to accept it. But you can change yourself, and that’s where you need to start. Take responsibility, and at least…try.”

He nodded.

“Promise me?”

“Promise.”

Her face split with a smile, the smile of the girl he’d grown up with, the girl he’d always looked up to as an older sister. “Cross your heart?”

The vow they’d used with each other for years struck a familiar chord, and he felt himself smile, really smile, for the first time in weeks. “Cross my heart.”

* * *

She stayed with him for the rest of the week. They got along like a house on fire, even if she didn’t entirely approve of the length of his runs and the complete abandonment of his usual workouts.

They talked a lot. She had a new boyfriend. The gym was weird without Kylo there. A lot of old memories were dredged up and he made his peace with them. Having someone to cook for helped him get back into a normal pattern of meals. Having someone else there was…nice, as much as he hated to admit it.

* * *

“I think I need more time. Give me another couple of weeks here. I’ll be back, I promise.”

Lucky slung her duffel bag over her shoulder. “I will, so long as you keep checking in with me.”

He nodded. “Will do.”

“You’d better. I’ll hold you to it.” She stood at the door and looked at him. “Will you be back in town for the holidays?”

“Ah…I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You should. Come do Christmas with us. Chance will be in town, you’ll get to see him and Ella and the kids. Besides, no one should be alone on the holidays.” Her face was concerned but sincere.

Kylo nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Let me know what you decide?”

“Will do.”

“Promise?” She looked up at him knowingly.

He knew what kind of response she wanted. “Cross my heart.”

Lucky gave him a hug, curling her head in to rest her cheek on his chest. For the first time in a long time, there was a real sense of family reaching out. He squeezed her back before letting her go. He waved as she climbed in her car and drove away.

The tracks left in the slush were gone by the next morning, snowed over.

He was alone again, but this time, he was headed in the right direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, concerns, comments, and feedback always appreciated!


	10. Bind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Apologies in advance for the oddness of the naming conventions in this chapter. For people that use a different name in public than they do at home, it’s kind of an odd combination of what you hear/what you’re used to, and Hux is home for the holidays. When around his family, he thinks of himself in terms of the name his family uses with him.
> 
> Warnings for some of the intricacies of Alzheimers. For those of you that haven't dealt with it personally, the big thing you have to understand is that you either laugh or you cry about it. There's a bit of both here.

The first day of finals, Hux locked himself out of the apartment.

He pulled the door shut behind him and put his hand on his pocket to double check for his keys as he always did. The pocket was uncharacteristically flat and his mind, distracted with formulas and theories for his upcoming Fluid Mechanics final, latched onto the irregularity.

He turned back to the door and stared at it. Of course. Of course he would lock himself out today. It didn’t bode well for the rest of the week. He dragged a deep breath of cold air, trying to calm himself. It was fine. This was fine. He didn’t need to get back into the apartment until that night, after his final. Carol would be home by then. It was fine.

Still, the fact that he’d done something so stupid was infuriating. His boot slammed into the metal of the door and he let himself vent uncharacteristically. “Fuck!”

* * *

Finals week seemed to scrape by at a stilted pace, painfully slow for stretches in which Hux wished they were simply done already, then speeding up as he flew through page after page of calculations, praying to anyone or anything that was listening for just a bit more time to run the numbers he scribbled.

Hux was finished by Thursday afternoon, and left with another two days to relax. Sure, he could have left campus early for the break, but that would mean being home an additional two days. His stomach twisted at the thought. The idea was…uncomfortable.

He knew he shouldn’t feel that way, but it was hard to go home. It had never been easy, but his father’s Alzheimer’s had progressed to a point that there was very clear degeneration each time he went home. Maybe it was the longer stretches of time between visits. Maybe the disease was simply stealing him away faster.

Either way, going home was heartbreaking.

So he stayed at school those last couple days, denying the truth of it. He was staying to finish some non-thesis related work for Professor Daala. He was staying to help Carol with her car, which was conveniently being an annoying lemon again. He was staying because he had an appointment with his advisor, which he’d made almost a month before because obviously he wouldn’t want to deal with things during actual finals.

Hux stayed at school until he couldn’t anymore. Then he went home.

* * *

Home was a fairly middle-upper class suburb of Chicago, quiet in comparison to the city but still within striking distance of everything important. Going home, everything looked a bit different, and although he still knew the area, it was a tiny bit disconcerting.

Around the holidays, they tended to have a number of family members floating in and out of the house as they traveled, crashing for a night before rising the next morning to catch a flight. It had been easy to handle when he was younger, even pleasant to see all of his distant relations on an annual basis.

Now, though, it was disorienting for his father. And that, quite frankly, was a problem.

The second day he was home his Aunt Theresa, his mother’s sister, spent the night with them. The sisters shared the same dark hair and dry sense of humor, despite their different paths.

The incident at bedtime was minor, but it seemed to get under his mother’s skin. Theresa had only been trying to help, but when she’d asked him if he was heading to bed, he’d shook his head. “Oh no, my wife would kill me!”

Francesca had been right behind, helping him put a warm flannel on to sleep in. Theresa had been surprised by the situation, but Francesca had taken it all in stride. Once he’d gone to bed, Theresa very nearly had a breakdown. “Chess, oh no. I didn’t realize how bad…”

“It’s alright.” Dr. Francesca Hux held herself together in her day-to-day struggles with the dignity of a queen. Behind the scenes though, Chess, as her sister called her, struggled with it. “I know it hurts, but the thing about all of this is that he doesn’t remember things day to day hardly at all anymore. Each day is brand new. And we have the choice to make it a good day or a bad day, and if it’s a bad day we can start all over the next day. So tomorrow we’ll start fresh.”

“It’s not going to be easy for you to stay with him like this. You’re digging your own grave. You can’t do it alone, and Brin isn’t around. If he gets the chance to go where he wants to go in life, he won’t be even after he graduates.”

He cringed a bit internally at the childhood nickname, but knew it would stick with him forever. In this house, with these people, it had always been ‘Bren’, which twisted to sound more like ‘Brin’ in the clipped Chicago accent. He’d thought of himself by that name for years, and now that he was home, it seemed to slip right back into place.

Something about the rest of their conversation drew his attention. Probably the low tone, like Aunt Theresa didn’t want to be heard. There was nothing that drew his attention in the family quite like a whisper.

“I know, but we talked about the possibility even before he was diagnosed. We knew something was coming, we just weren’t sure what. When they first diagnosed the demistrokes, we thought that was it. Brin wasn’t even at high school at that point. Remember, they found the scarring and thought that was it, so they stopped looking for anything else. They didn’t diagnose it until he kept worsening.”

“Did you set up any sort of palliative care?”

His mother paused, then took a deep, wavering breath. “Yes, but I’d like to…I’d like to keep him at home as long as I can.”

Aunt Theresa murmured something comforting and quiet, and he didn’t have to see his mother’s face to know she was on the verge of tears. They stayed up late talking family politics in low tones at the kitchen table.

Hux went to his room and let them drown their pain in wine.

* * *

The next morning, he woke and got up for breakfast. He yawned, grabbed some bread, and tossed it in the toaster. When it was crispy, he dug the butter dish out of the fridge and scraped some across the toast. The first bite made him gag.

“Mum?” He looked at the substance on the bread, realizing that it was suspiciously unmelted.

“Yes dear?”

“…what’s in the butter dish?”

There was a beat before she replied, “Butter?”

“I don’t think so.”

She came in, frowned, and ran a finger through the substance on his toast before tasting it. Her expression abruptly changed to surprise before crumpling with laughter. “Oh noooo.”

“What is it?”

She managed to relate the story between laughs. “I came down the other night and your father had a couple things out on the table. He had Crisco, you know, those baking sticks of it? The ones that I substitute for butter sometimes? And…” she dissolved into laughter again. “And a poncho. I thought I’d stopped whatever he’d been up to when I got him back to bed and put things away, no harm done.”

He looked at his toast and grimaced. “Oh god, that’s vegetable lard.”

“Yep!”

* * *

The day was fairly relaxed. He went to the local YMCA, only half embarrassed as he did the workout Carol had set out for him. He could feel that he was getting stronger, but in comparison to the other guys there, he looked like a shoelace.

The idea of a workout being a release for stress had finally sunk in. He could feel the exhaustion and residual soreness each day he left the gym, but it was accompanied by a sense of accomplishment.

He went to meet up with a couple of casual high school friends for dinner, and when he got home he stayed up trying to make sense of the patent-filing process. It might be a long shot, but the concept work they’d done for their senior design project was feasible.

Hux fell asleep at his desk, woke up around 4, and crashed again in his bed.

* * *

Hux woke up the morning of December 23rd to music. He could hear Bobby Darin and wakefulness jolted through him.

It was his mother’s cleaning music.

_Noooooo._

She had her favorite songs from her younger years, the music she listened to when she cleaned the house from top to bottom. He knew what that meant. He was going to spend the entire day cleaning, polishing the good silver, and helping with food prep.

The idea of leaving the relative warmth of his covers was awful. Not yet. He couldn’t get up just yet.

He flipped over in bed and clamped his pillow down over his head. _Ten more minutes. Please._

* * *

Francesca Hux was not a woman you said ‘no’ to, to her face or otherwise.

He could hear the gradual increase in stereo volume from the kitchen, once every couple of minutes until Dean Martin’s loud crooning became unbearable. He climbed out of bed, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and following the scent of baking bread. Before long, he stood in the kitchen doorway, giving her an aggrieved look. “Mum. Why.”

She turned away from the fridge, smiling pleasantly and feigning surprise. “Oh! You’re up, excellent. Could you help me with things? There’s a lot to be done before tomorrow. Everybody’s coming over.”

He very nearly slumped. “Yeah, let me find a sweater.”

“I’ll need you to start with dusting out in the living room, then washing the floors, and I need you to finish washing the good china, your aunt started it yesterday but we didn't get around to finishing it. It needs to be done by hand and you know I won’t let your father touch it, and…”

When she wanted to be heard, she had no indoor voice. He could hear her clearly all the way to his room as he dug up a sweater and back to the kitchen.

“I’ll do anything you ask but first: coffee?” he asked hopefully when he got back, bundled in an old hoodie from his days on the high school science olympiad team.

She waved at the stovetop. “Oh, of course. The moka’s* still hot, help yourself. I can always make more. You hungry?”

“I’ll just make some toast, thanks.”

She gave him a disapproving look and went from shuffling things about in the fridge to opening the oven to check on the bread. The wafting scent of the bread was familiar and delicious as she poked at one of the breadrolls. “And we’ll need to wash the floors by hand, I want the grout scrubbed...”

“Wash them by hand? Can’t we just…get a Swiffer or something?” He leaned on the counter, waiting for her to finish with her business in the oven.

She rapped his knuckles with a wooden spoon she’d seemingly produced from nowhere. “You’ll wash those floors until they’re clean, young man.”

He shook his hand of pain that seemed to bring his childhood back in a rush. “Aggghh, ma, I’m an adult, why do you have to…?”

She closed the oven back up, dissatisfied with the state of the bread. “You’re under my roof, my rules.”

Hux grumbled as he poured himself a cup from the metal coffee pot sitting on the stovetop, bypassing food until he could hit himself with caffeine. He sighed and closed his eyes for a minute after the first cautious sip that proved he wouldn’t quite burn himself. He savored it as long as he could, bracing for a day full of cleaning. He hated cleaning for the holidays, but if anything could make it better, it was his mother’s coffee. She was a stickler for fresh grounds and she usually went for a smooth, dark blend. He remembered her complaining for days when her favorite store stopped carrying her brand of Guatemalan roast, back when he was still in elementary. She’d found one to replace it, but she’d never quite let it go.

“Love, could you reach the cooling racks on top of the fridge for me?” After grabbing them for her, he took another sip. Ah. He could’ve cried.

The groan that slipped through his lips didn’t make it past her unnoticed. “That good, huh?”

“This year has turned me into a monster. I don’t function without coffee.”

The bread in the oven was finally finished, and she scooped rolls from the pan to the cooling racks quickly. “Well, there’s plenty more. Help yourself.”

He bent to kiss her on the cheek and she smiled a bit. “You’re a saint.”

“My namesake would be proud. Now, about the good china…”

* * *

They took a break for lunch and she sent Hux down to his father’s workroom to take him a sandwich. Even as his father’s memory dwindled, he still knew well enough not to bother his wife while she was cleaning or baking.

Brendol was fiddling about with the sights on his bow. Hux talked to him for awhile, promising to go hunting with him before going back to school.

He went back upstairs, uneasy for reasons he couldn’t explain.

* * *

When they finally finished cleaning to her satisfaction, his mom sat down for the first time all day with a large glass of wine. She poured one for him as well and nodded approval. “We’re going to early mass tomorrow morning.”

“How early is ‘early’?”

“7 o’clock.”

Hux held back a groan. He wasn’t even religious anymore, but damn if he’d disappoint her on Christmas.

* * *

“Come on, up!” The covers were ripped off of him unceremoniously and he very nearly shrieked at the chill. “Go shower, your father and I already have. I want to be out the door in twenty minutes!”

Once he’d showered and dressed, he shoved a piece of toast in his mouth as she fluttered about, trying to make him presentable and up to her standards. “Ma, I can handle it.”

She waved her hands, shooing his away and straightening his collar. “We aren’t going to be late to mass.”

He sighed, letting her do as she wanted. She went to do up the last couple buttons on his shirt and her eyebrows rose as his shirt pulled tighter than usual across his chest. “Been going to the gym, have you?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Trying to impress someone?”

“Trying not to get my sorry ass handed to me again.” He made a vague motion toward the fractional scar on his cheek.

Her eyes flickered with concern. “You know I won’t press you if you don’t want to tell me but...you know you’re going to have to tell your cousins something. And I want you to tell me sometime.”

“We can talk about it sometime. Just not right now.”

“Hm. I’ll hold you to that.” She pulled him down and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Whatever it might be, you look good.”

“Thanks mum.”

* * *

After mass, all hell broke loose.

The madness of last-minute cleaning was nothing on the flurry in the kitchen as his mother kicked into high gear. She set him to work chopping things, but it only ever lasted a couple minutes before she would set him to some other task. A couple hours passed that way, although she stayed fairly controlled.

When she sent him off to help his dad set up tables in the basement, the doorbell finally rang. There was a bustle upstairs and loud voices. A couple minutes later, one of his uncles came wandering downstairs to hide in the only safe haven from the disaster upstairs.

On his return to the kitchen, Hux found his Aunt Marie-Faith laying out cheeses and half a dozen sorts of pickled vegetables on trays. She swept in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, striking up a cheerful conversation with Chess as she started preparing food.

“Oh Marie, you wouldn’t believe the nonsense at the store yesterday, I forgot to get more vinaigrette for the bread and…”

“I’d believe it, I sent Joey out for milk and it took him nearly an hour!”

They laughed back and forth as Hux retreated to the corner, slicing up the vegetables his mom had set out for the trays as they chatted. His Aunt Moira arrived and cousins started to pile up everywhere. Someone broke out the homemade wine and one of his cousins, Angelica, started running drinks around to everyone.

It looked like they would need at least one more table set up. “Ma, I think…”

“Here, taste this,” she shoved a spoon with a taste of sauce on it in his mouth.

“Mmm.” The sound slipped out appreciatively.

“Good?”

“It’s delicious, but I don’t know that I’m the best judge, I haven’t had good sauce in ages.”

“What’s this nonsense I hear about not having good gravy?” his Aunt Moira seemed to pop up at the most opportune time.

He almost laughed, knowing the kind of bombshell he was about to drop on them. Instead, he put on a plaintive expression and said, “My roommate, Carol, cooks with Prego.”

The gasp and silence that struck the room only lasted a second before both of his aunts jumped at the opportunity. “Ah, we can’t let you go back to school like that!”

“I’ll make you gravy to take with, don’t worry.”

“I will too, you’ll have enough for the entire semester, it’ll be perfect.” Aunt Marie-Faith shook her head. “Prego. What nonsense.”

Aunt Moira patted him on the shoulder and paused. “Have you finally been eating like a normal person? You’re starting to put some meat on those bones!”

“Ah, there’s hope for you yet! Have you got a girlfriend?”

“Chess, you’re going to have to watch out, some girl is going to sink her teeth into him and steal him away.”

He ducked out of the kitchen to take another tray downstairs. There were plates and plates of antipasto, and they still hadn’t pulled the main courses out of the oven yet.

His cousin Gia slumped on the couch in the basement, her boyfriend sitting beside her looking vaguely uncomfortable. Hux took a breath and went to save the poor guy.

“Hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name as you guys came in. I’m Brin.” He held out a hand and watched the guy stand up nervously to shake.

Gia snorted and stood up to give him a quick hug. “This is Ian. _Brendoooool_ here is Aunt Francesca’s kid. And you met his dad, my Uncle Brendol.”

“Yeah. But nobody calls me that.”

“Cause you used to kick anyone that did under the table at dinner.”

He shuffled trays of food around to make more space as he spoke. “True. Did you show him where drinks were?”

“Yeah, your dad did.” She shrugged and flopped down on the couch again, returning to her phone and leaving Ian to flounder

* * *

Upstairs, people had one of two volumes: loud and louder. The chatter in the kitchen was nearly overwhelming, so he ducked out to help his other cousins shift the tables in the living room around to fit.

There were more greetings and introductions as people continued to arrive. Hux found himself slipping into familiar familial patterns. He went in to check on his mom every once in awhile, but for the most part it was best to stay clear of the kitchen once the aunts had commandeered it.

His Aunt Eleanor and Aunt Theresa arrived with Nonna and the living room was flooded with cousins and aunts and uncles trying to say hello and give hugs. That was most of the family, at least. His mother and her four sisters had grown up close, and they’d all remained in the Chicagoland area. They all joked that Nonno had wanted a son, and their parents had had kids until Nonna said ‘enough!’ with their fifth daughter.

If anything, his desire for a son had pushed all of the girls. An independent business owner, a surgeon, an IP specialist, a special education teacher, and a nurse weren’t anything to shrug off, and they’d stayed close and helped each other through the hard times over the years.

Hux stepped out for a moment, joining his mom in the kitchen. She glanced at him and smiled, worn but happy. “Be a dear and take your Nonna a glass of wine, would you? You know she doesn’t settle well until she has one.”

When he came back with the dark homemade wine, he bent down to give her a hug, having to stoop further than he remembered. Either she’d shrank or he’d grown more. “How are you?”

“Not bad, thanks to my favorite grandson.”

“Woah woah woah, how come he’s the favorite?” Evan piped up.

“He brought me wine, now hush your mouth.” There were a couple laughs interspersed around the room amid the chatter.

“So who’d you get in a fight with?”

Hux realized her question was directed at him, and he turned to look at her again. “Pardon?”

“The scar on your pretty face. Don't be a wiseass.”

Her language wasn’t even a surprise. “Ah. I, uh…”

“You got in a fight with someone, I see that much. That’s a split cheek, I’ve seen them before. Come here, let me see.”

He bent to let her run her hand over it. The gash had healed, for the most part. It was still raw and pink, but fairly small. In a couple years, maybe it would fade. She nodded approvingly. “The stiches were nice and clean. That the only one?”

He reached to the back of his head and she sat back in her chair, nodding with satisfaction. “That one you can hide though. Of all my nipote, I never thought you’d be the one to get his face cut up.You’re not exactly rough and tumble, but it suits you.”

“It wasn’t exactly intentional.”

She shot him a knowing smile. “It never is. I hope you gave as good as you got.”

The comment was well-intended, but he had no idea how to respond to it, so he responded as vaguely as he could. “Oh, you know me, nonna.”

“Hah! Nobody knows anyone, my dear. But if you follow after your Nonno, I wouldn’t complain. He was a good man, the family knew that.”

“Nonna! That’s not fair, you have to tell us if he was involved or not, you can’t just…drop hints.” Gia said irritably. Ian looked nearly disturbed next to her, and it was clear she relished the chance to scare him a bit.

“If I have my way, you won’t know unless I’m dead!” she laughed. It was obvious a couple of cousins were uncomfortable with the joke, but she was on the older side. Nonno had been gone for nearly eight years, and when she wasn’t around the people she loved, she was tired. She’d made her wishes clear, and then she’d bluntly made the point that they could just deal with it.

* * *

The conversation was loud and cheerful, as loud as it could be with twenty-odd people crammed in one house. Theresa’s three kids had arrived with their dad, and Marie-Faith’s kids relaxed in the basement, as well as her son-in-law. Eleanor’s two sons, a pair of teen twins, tried to wheedle more information out of Nonna, despite the fact that nobody knew if she actually had any relation to the old Outfit. Most of the uncles retreated to the basement as well, knowing to simply stay out of the way and respond to any calls for errands. Dominic slipped in without notice, and Hux only found him when he went back to the kitchen. His cousin spoke quietly to his mother, Moira, for a couple minutes. She looked tired when he turned away.

“Hey Brin, how are you?” He reached out and his cousin turned to catch him in an open-armed hug.

“Not bad. How are you holding up?”

There was a look in his eyes, a slow, tired grief. Hux recognized that pain, although on a lesser level. His younger cousin, Emma, had been killed in a drunk driving accident in January. This was the first Christmas without her, and it was clear it was taking a toll on everyone, but no one more than her immediate family. “You know. Not as bad as I thought, now that I’m here.”

“How’s the boyfriend?” Last year had been the first year Dominic had brought a significant other to family Christmas. Everyone had known he was gay for years, but it had been awkward at first. So many people in the family were at least a little homophobic, even if they said they weren’t. Still, they’d made it through, and Hux had liked the guy. He had a razor-sharp sense of humor and a way of lightening situations. All in all, dinner had gone off without incident.

At that, Dominic brightened a tiny bit. “Celebrating Christmas Eve with his family, but he’s coming over to spend Christmas day with us tomorrow. I’ll be heading to Columbus to celebrate with his family next weekend.”

Aunt Moira put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Alright, food’s almost done, we’re all going to get together and pray. Someone yell at everyone in the basement.”

* * *

The entire family crowded into the living room, laughing and talking. Once everyone was there, they held hands and prayed together. After, Uncle Erwin asked, “Would anyone else like to say anything?”

There was an uncomfortable silence until Dominic spoke up. “I know everyone is thinking it, so I’ve got something.”

Uncle Erwin nodded. “The floor’s yours.”

He took a deep breath. “I want to say I’m thankful we could come together as a family today, even though there are some people that can’t be here.” His voice started to crack. “So I’d like everyone to remember them and tell a story or two about them or something.”

“Amen!” Nonna piped up.

* * *

The kitchen got a bit crazier as everyone tried to get the food moved out to the seating areas. Hux could hear one of his aunts speaking. “Ohhh Francesca you’ve outdone yourself. Oh my god look at it, it’s phenomenal. Theresa, look at this.”

Everyone went about serving themselves food, although some aunts took it upon themselves to serve others up if they didn't feel they'd taken enough. “Oh here Ian, have a little,” Aunt Theresa said as she dropped a huge spatula full on her plate. Ian’s expression said all it needed to.

“We don’t do small servings around here,” Hux leaned over and said quietly.

“Apparently not,” his voice was a bit weak.

“Mmm, yeah, but save room for my mum’s struffoli,” Gia said with a grin.

“Is your mom going to make it each year now that Nonna can’t?”

“Yeah, she’s got it down.”

“Alright, how many of you kids were wise-asses and brought panettone cause you were too lazy to cook?” Uncle Erwin said loudly from upstairs. "We do _not_ need three of them."

“Hey, I like panettone!”

* * *

“Alright Brin, spill. What happened to your face? Nonna’s gotta be right, you got yourself in trouble, didn’t you?” Vance said down the table.

“Uh…”

“Fess up, I’ve got money on this. It’s kind of important.”

“I’m telling you, he got in a fight!” Vance’s twin brother, Roland said loudly.

“Are you kidding me? Brin is the sort of stone cold weirdo the mob would want if they were still, like, a thing.” He turned back down the table. “What kind of stupid motherfucker would get in a fight with him?”

“LANGUAGE!” one of the aunts yelled from upstairs.

Hux looked around the basement at his family. Sure, he’d been sequestered to the kids’ table, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. They were big and loud and he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

* * *

He went upstairs to check on his mom. He was completely unsurprised to find her still in the kitchen, ready to bring another tray downstairs.

“Sit down mum, have something to eat.”

She waved him off. “I’ll sit later, it’s alright.”

With a frown, he plucked her wine glass from the counter and refilled it. When she came back, he pushed it gently into one of her hands and a plate into the other. “Come on, you need to sit down and eat.”

“This is…”

“Mum, I love you, but don’t argue with me on this.”

* * *

He went to the living room to check in on his father, who was handling things surprisingly well.

The adults spoke at a different level than the kids, but there was the same sort of ebb and flow of loud conversation. The wine was passed around and everyone agreed that Uncle Joe had done a fantastic job this year.

Conversation had settled at 'loud' but hadn't moved on to 'really loud' when there was a yell from the basement. “Ma!”

Three voices chorused from the living room, “What?” Theresa, Marie-Faith, and Eleanor looked at each other and shared a laugh as there was a muffled rumble of laughter from the basement.

“Marie-Faith!”

She shook her head and stood up. “There’s my cue.”

Uncle Erwin motioned to Hux, who had been leaning on the door frame trying to check on his father without being obvious. "Here, sit until she comes back."

It occurred to him that this was the first time he'd been allowed to sit at the 'adult' table. It wasn't quite what he'd always thought it would be.

* * *

"Yeah, and nobody's even drunk yet. This is relaxed, just wait."

Ian put his head down in his hands, jokingly. “It’s just…it’s a lot to take in.”

Gia nodded sympathetically. “It’s always like this. Holidays and funerals, it’s always this loud.” She gave Hux a knowing look. The family was crazy and loud and big and loving, and they wouldn’t have traded it for the world. The last time they’d been together like this had been Emma’s funeral, last January. They’d done the exact same thing after the ceremony and interment. They’d had a family condolence lunch, but the actual family had stayed late into the night, drinking and telling stories, crying and laughing alternatively.

How did a family get through a death without this kind of love and support? They’d always been there for each other, a massive pack of kids overseen by parents that passed them off as though they were all their own.

The question lingered for a moment before he was struck by the realization that Kylo had gone through that. He didn’t have any kind of family like this, just his mother that he didn’t talk to and his uncle who, from the sounds of things, he didn’t talk to either. How did he go through losing his dad alone?

The abrupt turn of his thoughts toward Kylo caught him by surprise, and he was struck by the idea of Kylo sitting across the table from him, in the middle of the family mess. Hux could practically see him holding his own in an argument with any of the many cousins, or shooting him a skeptical look at the ridiculous conversations they’d had. Somehow, he knew with absolute certainty that Kylo would fit right in here.

And suddenly…it was a bit too much. The basement was too loud, there were too many people, and Hux needed out. The world seemed to narrow a bit and he stood up quickly, going upstairs and making a beeline for the back door.

On his way out, Aunt Theresa grabbed his shoulder and shoved a hat on his head. “You can’t go out like that, you’ll catch a cold! Put a coat on.”

He slung his peacoat over his shoulders and pulled the hat down, nearly stumbling out the door into the quiet backyard.

“You alright?” Uncle Mike, Emma and Dominic's father, stood there, stamping his feet in the couple inches of snow in a halfhearted effort to stay warm.

“Yeah, it was just…” Hux made a vague motion at the house with a hand, but he seemed to understand.

“Too much. I get it.”

They stood in silence for a time, nothing in the air between them but the icy mist of their breath or the smoke of his uncle’s cigarette. Emma's death had aged him. Grey whisped about his temples and bags had developed under his eyes, stark in the heavy shadow of the night.

The backyard was barren and quiet, but Hux knew what it looked like in the summer, and almost smiled. His mother had always gardened, and in the last few years she’d talked his father into helping her. They’d had a massive garden that took up most of the yard for the past few years, as well as massive planters full of tomato plants, basil, and hot peppers.

After a bit, he pulled himself back together and nodded to his uncle before going back inside.

* * *

The family trickled out slowly after about 10 o’clock. He could see his mother slowly relax as they left in small groups, until it was just her and Moira in the kitchen, talking and drinking wine.

“We ought to leave fairly soon, I’m supposed to be giving Dom a ride to the airport in the morning.”

“Oh, but that’s all the way across town for you. Why don’t you have him sleep here and Brin can run him in the morning?”

Hux looked up at them from where he’d sprawled on the kitchen rug, trying to stretch his legs. “Yeah, that’d be easier for you.”

Dominic looked at him, cringing. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. You already have your stuff?”

“Yeah, I threw it in mum’s car this morning.”

"Then it's no problem at all, as long as it works for you."

* * *

After Aunt Moira had left and his parents had gone to bed, Hux sat with Dominic, drinking more than they should have but enjoying themselves regardless.

When it ‘slipped’ that he'd been dating guys, Dominic only stopped and looked at him for a minute before grinning wildly. "I shouldn't even be surprised, but I just..." He took another sip of the homemade wine. "You better not butt in on my territory as 'the gay cousin'."

"Oh, I won't. My dad doesn't really know."

Dominic gave him a look that was all too sober for how much he'd had. "Doesn't know or..."

"Doesn't know because he doesn't remember."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

* * *

Sitting in traffic after dropping Dominic off at O’Hare the next morning was odd. He couldn’t keep from wondering what Kylo was doing for the holidays. The idiot didn’t have much in the way of family.

He got home with some sort of emotion he couldn’t quite place gnawing at him.

* * *

Christmas Day was pointedly relaxed in the Hux household. They had breakfast together, exchanged some presents, and then Hux settled into an old tradition of his: reading all day.

It’d started when he was young. He would ask for books for Christmas, and then once he had them, his parents were hard-pressed to keep him away from them. So they’d let him read all day, and taken it as a chance to relax. It had turned into a family thing.

His father sat in his brown armchair with a blanket and a book, although in recent years it had always been a book he was familiar with already. He couldn’t read many new things, as he would find himself in the middle of a page, not understanding what was happening.

His mother curled up in the other armchair with a glass of wine and some fairly new documentation on a procedure she’d pioneered. Around lunch, she switched to a lighter romance novel.

He lay on the couch, barely fitting across the span of it, with the kind of sci-fi novel he rarely had time to splurge on.

They had dinner together in the evening and his parents turned in early.

For a family that had been on the go constantly for years, it was a happy, comfortable tradition that let them unwind and enjoy the day. It wasn’t much, but it worked.

As he got ready for bed, he wondered again what Kylo was doing. Was he spending the holiday alone, or did he have someone, somewhere, that actually cared about him? Did _he_ care about Kylo, despite what had happened?

He shoved the thought aside angrily without answering it and hunted down warm pajamas. He took some time to compose himself and when he felt alright again he read himself to sleep.

* * *

He woke up the next morning and hauled himself to the gym again.

Once out the door, Hux felt more like himself. This, he could do. He could take control of his own life. Admittedly, that involved slogging through slush and lake effect snow and the workout Carol had sent him, but at least it left him with a feeling of accomplishment. She kept him accountable to himself, and it was enough to keep moving forward.

* * *

The next few days were fairly straightforward. He would get up, go to the gym, then come home and spend time with his dad. His mother was right: some days were very good and some were very bad.

The day before New Year’s Eve, he took his father out for lunch. He’d asked for Italian beef sandwiches the day before, and been so disappointed that they couldn’t have any, so it had been a simple decision.

“Give me a call if there are any issues,” his mom had said, kissing him on the cheek as she’d left that morning. As a consultant, usually she didn’t have to be on-site at the hospital, but the procedure today was particularly risky and she’d wanted to be there.

Hux drove and looked at his father as he sat in the car, conflicted. The premature downward slide was uncomfortable and worrisome, but he’d practically been expecting it since the diagnosis. The way his father occasionally seemed to dissociate from everything rattled his nerves rather more than the memory problems. It was impossible to predict when things would go from good to bad, and it could happen in the blink of an eye. “Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

His father looked up from the magazine in his hands, hopeful. “You found yourself a nice girlfriend?”

He choked with surprise and felt a rush of emotion flood his sinuses, causing heat to prick the corners of his eyes. For a moment, he was sure that whatever it was would burst from him, whether it was laughter or tears. Instead, he took a deep breath and pushed it down. “No, just lunch. We’re going for Italian beef sandwiches.”

His father nodded approvingly. “Oh, alright. That sounds good, I’ll take mine with hot.”

“Yeah, I know. With extra on the side.”

They ordered at the counter and sat down. His father read the info about the restaurant aloud from the menu, but the conversation in the restaurant was loud enough that he didn’t stick out. “They invented Italian beef sandwiches in the Great Depression, when they had to slice the meat thin to make it last,” his father said, blinking in confusion as he rose to retrieve their food from the counter when their number was called.

“Here you go, and there’s extra hot on the side.”

His father smiled at him with a genuinely happy expression he hadn’t seen in years. “Just like I like it.”

It was hard to fight down the emotion that rose in his throat again, but he put on as reassuring an expression as he could. “Yeah dad, just like you like it.”

Lunch went off without a hitch, and he couldn’t help but be proud of the part of his father’s mind that was left.

* * *

His mom had been adamant about taking his father out for New Year’s Eve. Though it went unsaid, the possibility that it might be the last New Year’s he was still with it enough to go out was clear.

So he helped them both get ready, doing his best so simply supervise as his father went through the pattern of dressing himself, piece by piece. Letting him have as much independence as he could was one of the few comforts left in the situation. Good days were worth being thankful for.

As they stood in the living room, his mother pulled the three of them together and handed Hux her phone for a couple pictures. After, she glanced at her watch. “Oh, we need to get going. Let me go get my bag, and we’ll be ready to go.” He watched his mom go, sashaying toward the hall with every bit of grace in heels as in the flats she’d worn to the hospital for years.

“She’s beautiful.” His father’s words were quiet, almost reverent. “Even now that we’re older, Liam. You know she’s as beautiful as the day she said she’d marry me?”

He paused for a moment, his uncle’s name sliding into place in his mind. Liam? His father’s brother Liam had been dead for nearly twenty years. Why had he called him…?

There was nothing in the world that could have prepared him for the freight train of shock and anger and sadness and helplessness that slammed him as his father didn’t recognize him.

For the first time.

His father…

_…didn’t recognize him._

Ice water seemed to flood his chest cavity, threatening to drown him. A scratch rose in his throat, choking him. He could feel the tears he’d held back through every incident over the break finally spilling from the corners of his eyes, only for him to swipe them away with his sleeve. He desperately tried to pull himself back together before his father saw or his mom came back. He failed miserably.

When she returned with her purse, she took one look at his face and she knew something was wrong. He’d never been able to lie to her, and she could read his poker face like a book. Her eyes flickered and she kissed his father on the cheek. “Would you mind going and getting in the car, dear?”

He smiled and swung his coat around his shoulders, heading to the door. The moment he was out of earshot, Francesca Hux spun on her son with the righteous fury of a vengeful mother. “What did he say to you?!?” she demanded.

Life was impossible sometimes. Life had decided to be a right bitch and steal his father’s mind away, bit by bit by bit as his mother watched and cared for him. Life wasn’t fair, and would never be fair. Brendol Hux Senior didn’t deserve this. His son didn’t deserve this. More than anyone, his wife _didn’t deserve this._

So he lied.

Well, he didn’t tell the whole truth.

“He said you’re as beautiful as the day you said you’d marry him.” His voice wavered, wobbling and threatening to fall and crack to pieces. The tears that had sprung in his eyes could fall at any second, and he did his best to blink them back.

Her anger subsided and she gave him a small, sad smile before pulling him into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s alright, it really is. I know it’s hard, but…”

“He just…he loves you a lot.”

She broke away and he could see the beginning of tears in the corner of her eyes. “I know he does.”

* * *

So Hux found himself sitting on his bedroom floor, alone on New Year’s Eve, getting drunk and staring up at the sky through his open window.

Perhaps it wasn’t an entirely logical decision that led him to drag all his covers and blankets off his bed, to pile his two pillows on the floor, and to open the blinds of his window wide.

It was a wine-drunk decision that led him to sleep on the floor, staring out through his window at the stars and the blinking lights of planes, traveling the charted patterns that let them leave Chicago, let them get away from this place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A moka pot is a type of coffee maker, I swear this isn't a typo
> 
> This chapter is devoted to all the significant others that take care of their partners as they waste away, in either body or mind. You are beautiful people, and I hope that somehow you find peace in your lives. In particular, this chapter is dedicated to ED and DD, who are an inspiration and a lesson in patience in my life. I can only hope I have that kind of patience and devotion.
> 
> If you'd like some (AU of an AU) kylux fluff, I've started a separate collection of one-shots called [Made of Nebulas and Novas and Night Sky](http://archiveofourown.org/series/412771). It's definitely a lot lighter than DFoC, but college AU just the same.
> 
> Questions, comments, corrections, and feedback always appreciated!


	11. Guard

The snow built up, but Kylo had resolved to spend rather more time up north. When the snow was high enough to make running outside impossible, he got himself an inexpensive gym membership in town, one of those 24-hour gyms.

Sometimes, he’d go out in the snow, ignoring just how goddamn cold it was long enough to sweat half to death in half a dozen layers. Resistance training was a nightmare with snow that came to his knees, and if he went out early enough the plows wouldn’t have come through yet. He’d stumble home, welcoming the burn of the hot water in the shower.

He spent another two weeks that way, texting Lucky daily. She kept in touch, refusing to let him detach the way he had before.

He bought a cheap blank notebook to use as a sketchbook and turned out sketch after sketch of designs. In all reality, he hadn’t felt such a drive to put images on paper in years. Some of them were nothing more than shitty half-finished doodles, but there were a couple he absolutely loved. People might only come to him for commissioned paint jobs, but there were a couple incredible designs. Maybe the next time someone came to him without any ideas he could pull them out and propose ideas. At the very least, he could add them to his portfolio.

He had the gut feeling he wanted another tattoo. His first had been years ago, a decision he’d made when he’d been drunk on his 18th birthday and called in to make the appointment. When the day came, he’d gone and gotten a small script thing, not wanting to chicken out. The one he’d gotten a couple months later, the date of his father’s death, had actually meant something.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted another. He wasn’t entirely sure what yet, but it felt like he was starting a new part of his life and something about it seemed…right. So Kylo sketched designs, never liking any of them enough to have them inked. Life seemed to slow, moving gently like the now-bare willow branches as they gently traced lines in the snow below the tree, pushed by the wind.

* * *

Lucky texted him three days before Christmas. _I told Chance you’d be in for xmas_

He glared at the message, then took a deep breath and shook his head to clear it. _Why?_

_He and dad have something they’ve been planning awhile and they want your input on it. So I said you’d be there_

Even though he felt a vague sense of annoyance, Kylo couldn’t help but be curious. _Care to tell me what?_

_I’m sure they’ll tell you_

So Kylo found himself closing up the house and preparing it for the remainder of winter just before he left to drive south again. There wasn’t much to do but run to town to turn books in and close his gym membership, clean and prepare the house’s systems, and finally pack and head out.

The drive was bitterly cold, but he bundled up under his jacket. Still, the hours couldn’t pass fast enough, and he stopped for coffee a couple times in an effort to warm up.

* * *

Kylo got home, or the closest thing he could call to home, on December 23rd. He pulled into the drive, spotting the two kids running around in the front yard, tromping between the piled snow and makeshift forts in an effort to catch each other and shove snow down each other’s coats.

All he had to grab was his small gym duffel worth of stuff, slinging it over his shoulder as he headed toward the back of the house.

He was intercepted by two pint-sized bundles of winter clothes. “Ben is back!” The larger bundle shouted.

The smaller bundle simply yelled loudly, grabbing his leg and clinging.

“Woah woah hold up, I need to go inside and put things down. Are you guys going in yet?”

The older of the two kids seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded, a full-body motion that was overexaggerated for the sake of clarity in the winter gear. “Yeah!”

Kylo smiled and tried to move, finding his leg still caught by the youngest Calrissian. He looked down to find big brown eyes staring up at him, mischievous and happy. “You‘ve got my leg, I can hardly move. You want to let go?”

“No!”

“Looks like I’ll have to make you!” He bent down and scooped the bundle up with his free arm, sweeping her up onto his shoulder to a high shriek of joyful laughter. He slogged inside, followed by the second bundle of coats.

“Dad! Ben is back!”

Kylo let the little one down, careful to make sure her muddy boots avoided the wall. She giggled and struggled to pull her hood back with mittened hands. She looked up at him as he helped her and her eyes widened once he pulled away the face mask he’d worn with his helmet. “Your face looks weird.”

She’d always favored the blunt. Kylo couldn’t help smiling. “The beard and mustache, you mean?”

“I don’t like it.” Her nose wrinkled with displeasure.

Footsteps sounded down the hall, ending with Chance Calrissian standing in the archway that led into the house from the foyer. He held a fair resemblance to his father, with a bit more height from his mother’s side of the family and a longer face.

“So Lucky was serious!” He held out his arms and gave Kylo a quick heartfelt hug. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it back.”

“She’d kick my ass if I didn’t.”

“You’re not supposed to say that!” The larger of the two bundles had shed layers to the point that it was possible to actually see the child inside. Alexander Calrissian, who usually went by Zander, was a quick 7 year old with the same dark eyes as his sister and, at that moment, a serious expression.

Kylo blinked and turned back to him, confused. “What?”

“The a-word. You’re not supposed to say it.”

“Oh shi…right.” He turned to Chance apologetically. “I almost forgot.”

“It’s alright. They’ll call you out on it though.” Chance looked like he might laugh. “Hey, no boots on the carpet!”

Zander looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Is Lando in?”

“Dad’s out at the gym, but he should be back pretty soon.” Chance ruffled Zander’s hair up from where it’d been smushed by his hat. It popped back up into its usual short afro.

Kylo nodded. “Good. It’ll give me a chance to go shower somewhere the water doesn’t smell like sulfur.”

Chance grinned. “Can’t blame you. How about the…” He made a vague motion at Kylo’s face. “Is it staying?”

“It doesn’t actually bother me much, but everyone else seems to think it’s awful.”

“It makes you look older. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”

“What was your first impression?” Chance made a face that said everything it needed to. Kylo sighed. “Well, shaving isn’t going to kill me.”

* * *

Kylo returned to the house a bit over an hour later, having showered and pulled himself together. He found the kids playing in the living room while the adults kept an eye on them from the kitchen. Lando, Chance, and Ana, Chance’s wife, were talking around the table.

Kylo knocked on the door frame as he entered the kitchen, announcing his presence. Lando waved him in, starting to climb to his feet until Kylo leaned in to give him a hug before turning to give Ana one as well. Ana was about Lando’s height, with deep bronzed skin and glossy black hair pulled back in a thick braid.

“So how’s Michigan?”

Kylo considered his answer for a minute. “Cold. Really cold.”

“It’s good to have you back.”

They talked awhile before the conversation turned back to Kylo.

Lando looked at him speculatively. “So, finally got yourself straightened out?”

“Not…exactly. Somewhat. But I need to talk to you about that, I think I’m going to suspend my competitive record for now.”

All heads in the room turned his direction, and Kylo very suddenly found himself on a stage he hadn’t expected. He stumbled into his next words. “I just…there’s some stuff in my life I need to get straightened out, and I think the competitive season is just making it worse.”

Lando looked contemplative. “Normally, I’d advise against it. Taking a break usually doesn’t work out for people, but I think in your case it might be a wise choice.”

“But you’ll still be in the gym, right?” Chance looked concerned.

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” He looked between the two of them, suddenly feeling suspicious. “Lucky said there was something the two of you wanted to talk to me about, does that have something to do with the look on your face?”

Chance glanced at his dad, who nodded and waved his hand. “Dad’s had a couple requests from local educators about starting up a program at Millennium, a sort of crossover training and mentoring program.”

“The company’s been doing fairly well, and Chance is willing to set up a sort of…scholarship or grant program for it. It’d be for at-risk kids that wouldn’t be able to afford training normally. Ideally, the gym would help keep them off the streets and the mentoring and tutoring side would help keep them in school,” Lando said.

Kylo nodded. “It’s a brilliant idea. MMA might be a bit much, but boxing would be great. If there were…I don’t know, grade requirements for competition, we’d probably stand a chance of keeping kids in.”

“We were thinking about launching it with some local high school students. We’ve got half a dozen interested candidates, ranging from freshmen to one senior. But there’s a catch.”

Kylo leaned on the table. “It’d be great, so long as you could find the right people to head up the program. Hell, I bet Lucky would be willing to do it.”

Chance shifted in his chair. “We were actually wondering if you’d be willing to run it.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Look, I’m going to be straight with you. The biggest problem is that these kids are, if we’re honest, already pretty much failures. They’re a mess, and I don’t think it’s ultimately going to benefit anyone to take them on. We should be focusing on the kids that are in a bad place but not…not these kids.” Lando shook his head.

“It sounds like you’ve already given up.” Kylo frowned, not liking where the discussion was going.

“It’s a bit hard to have hope for them. They’re teenagers, and to be honest they’re in worse places than you were when you were their ages. Two are straight out of really nasty foster situations, a couple of the others have only ever known one of their parents, and all of them are from extremely low income homes.”

“They deserve as much of a chance as anyone else.” He looked between the two of them seriously. “If you’re trying to get me to take this on, I’m up for it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Let’s prove the world wrong about them.”

Neither Chance or Lando would ever tell him, but they knew that half the things he did were out of spite. Tell him something was impossible and he'd see it done. Tell him he couldn't, and he would. If they'd used that to try and talk him into taking the group on...well, he didn't need to know.

* * *

Zander came running into the kitchen about half an hour later, trying to tattle on his sister. The girl, Skylar, sprinted past Kylo on legs that had finally grown out of the awkward toddler stage. She’d been going to defend herself, but she stopped abruptly when she saw him again. “Ben! Your face looks normal!”

“That’s Uncle Ben to you, missy,” Ana said offhand.

He stooped and swept her up into a bearlike hug, noting that she was a bit harder to pick up than he remembered. Her legs dangled, not quite reaching his knees. “I thought it was just your coat, but you’ve grown again!”

“I’m going to be as tall as you!”

He put her down carefully. “You’ve got a ways to go. Better keep eating your veggies.”

She looked up at him disapprovingly. “You do too. You got skinny like Zander.”

“Hey, I’m not skinny!” he shot back teasingly, although if she was calling him out, he knew he must have visibly thinned. There was still plenty of muscle, just leaner than before.

“Your hair is pretty though.”

“It’s been awhile since I cut it. You like it? More than the beard?”

“Yeah. I want to do your hair.”

“Uh…sure?”

Ana chuckled. “Look out, she’s just learned to braid.”

“I mean, my hair isn’t really long enough to braid…?”

Skylar smiled. “Of course it is!”

Kylo sat in the living room letting Skylar play with his hair as Chance and Ana got ready for a date. They’d arranged ahead of time to leave the kids with Lando for a couple hours, which shouldn’t have been too tricky.

Of course, Lando underestimated just how much trouble a pair of Calrissian kids could be.

* * *

When the kids had finally wound down for the evening, Lando managed to get them settled enough to watch a movie. Skylar had a very definite opinion on the matter. “I wanna watch Big Hero 6.”

Lando groaned. “We watched Big Hero 6 last night sweetheart, could we maybe…”

“No, I want to watch it again.”

Zander nodded. “Me too!”

* * *

Skylar fell asleep about twenty minutes into the movie, curling up against Kylo’s side with her hideous teddy bear that was aptly named ‘Oatmeal’. One look at the thing was enough to explain its namesake: it was grey-ish brown and lumpy.

Zander lasted another hour before he was out as well.

Lando went and turned the sheets down on the guest bed they were going to be sleeping in, and Kylo carried them each back to the room in turn so Lando could tuck them in. Skylar curled into his chest with her bear and was fairly easy to carry, but Zander was a lanky mess. Once he’d finally shifted the kid into bed next to his sister, Kylo left Lando to tuck them in.

Once the kids were asleep, they talked for awhile. Lando didn’t seem too worried that he was dropping from the league. His concern was far more than a coach’s concern, more like that of the only father figure Kylo had left. Lando even approved of his choice to drop out of school for awhile, in order to get himself back on track. It was reassuring.

It was hard to talk about and explain why he felt the need to stop competing, but it had to be done. He felt lucky that Lando was so understanding. “You’ve got a good eye, I’m sure you’ll be as good a coach for those kids as you are for the people you’ve been working with. It’s just a matter of reigning them in, cause most of them are a mess.”

At the end of the night, Kylo went back up to his apartment above the garage with half a dozen braids still twisted into his hair. Though he’d showered and eaten, he still didn’t quite feel like his old self, and the drive had been utterly draining. He crashed from exhaustion, and sleep was blessedly dreamless.

* * *

Kylo floated around his apartment the next morning after a trip to the grocery store, making bread and a couple pies, feeling lighter than he had in ages. Everything was going to be alright. He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he did. The all-consuming sense of despair that had gripped him for weeks had melted into something more manageable.

Christmas Eve was a small family affair, the same small group of them with the addition of Lucky and her boyfriend, Roland. Of course, even that hadn’t gone without a hitch. They’d come in and Roland had given him a strong sideeye when he’d hugged Lucky in greeting. “Watch yourself, man.”

Kylo blinked and stopped dead. “What?”

“She doesn’t see you like that, trust me.” Roland glared at him.

“Hang on, this is ridiculous. I’m gay.”

“Look, I’m just saying, I’m watching you.”

“Oh, that’s great. Are you interested? Because I’m just saying, I date guys,” Kylo deadpanned. “I’m. Gay.”

Chance shot him an aggravated look. “Hey man, he’s more likely to hit on you than he is to hit on her. What do you not get about ‘he’s gay’?”

“Oh.” Roland’s face twisted a bit. “No need to push it in my face like that.”

Kylo very nearly rolled his eyes in exasperation, but stifled his reaction in the name of maintaining peace.

* * *

Dinner was a relaxed affair, a potluck style thing. Kylo sat between Ana and Lucky, across from the kids. Ana was in full mom-mode, trying to keep the kids from being too obnoxious. It was rather humorous to see the motherly side of her when she had such a high-profile job. She’d kept her last name, Vasquez, when she’d married Chance. She’d made a name for herself as an attorney, and it was easier than taking a new last name.

Conversation was mild and cheerful. His mom came up briefly, but for the most part everyone veered clear of his family issues, which Kylo was grateful for.

Eventually, Skylar piped up. “I’m done!”

“What do you say?”

She looked up and sighed. “May I be excused?”

“Yes you may. No opening presents until after everyone is finished with dinner.”

“But moooom…”

“You heard me.”

Skylar spent the next hour stealing the pre-made bows off of all the presents, and sticking them on a stretchy headband. When the sticky backs to the bows weren’t enough, she’d taped a couple of them down.

The adults had almost finished cleaning up after the meal when Skylar bounced back into the kitchen. “Ben!”

“What?”

“Come here, I want to do your hair again.” She said it with all the imperiousness of a five year old girl who knew he couldn’t refuse her.

“I…oh alright, give me a minute.” He tried to dry his hands off from the sink where he’d been working on dishes and found himself prodded along by both Skylar and Lucky, who laughed at his predicament.

Later, Lucky managed to snap a picture of them, one that would become one of her favorite pictures ever. It showed him in a way she hadn’t seen in years, a long face smiling with genuine happiness, all topped with a longer-than-usual mop of dark hair and a crown of shiny bows, lovingly taped together by Skylar.

“You look very pretty” Skylar said with approval. “I’m sure you’ll find a princess that likes you.”

Ana, diplomatic as ever, chimed in as she sat down on the couch with a glass of wine. “Sweetheart, Uncle Ben likes boys, remember?”

Skylar, without missing a beat, stuck another bow to the band and patted his face. “Then you’ll find a prince that likes you.” She busied herself clipping a glittery purple bracelet on, and when she was finished she handed him a bottle of bright blue nail polish. “Can you do my nails?”

Kylo sighed. There were few things as reassuring as a five year old telling him he would find love.

* * *

The kids dropped off to sleep around 8, and the adults stayed up another couple hours, talking in muted voices. The conversation went back to the program Chance and Lando were starting, tossing ideas around for a name.

“I’m game for anything, really. I’m up to coach, I just don’t want to be the one naming it.” Kylo eventually shrugged, holding his hands up defensively.

Lando shook his head. “Nah, you don’t have to have input on the name. I just…look, Chance’s idea was awful. ‘Bank backed boxers’? That’s about dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“What about ‘A Fighting Chance’?” Ana asked. The room went silent. There was nothing but the quiet intake of breath. She flushed with embarrassment. “You know, because…”

“I love you and you’re brilliant.” Chance kissed her. “Have I told you that today? Because I don’t tell you enough.”

“It really isn’t…”

“It really is.” Chance turned to his dad with a grin. “What do you think?”

“I think we’ve got a name.”

* * *

Presents for the kids were tucked under the tree, stockings were hung, and everyone was ready to turn in for the night. Kylo stood, taking his cue to leave. “I’m going to make strata for breakfast tomorrow, unless you already have plans?”

Chance shook his head. “Not really, usually it’s all we can do to get the kids to eat cereal before they want to dig into presents.”

“I’ll swing by and drop a pan off, it’ll be hot and ready to go when people are waking up. Call it a present to you guys for letting me float around tonight even though I’m not actually family.”

Lando shook his head. “You’re a part of the family. But if you’ve already got plans, that’s entirely alright.”

“I’ll probably spend a chunk of the day baking, I think I owe a lot of people apologies, and homemade bread seems to…smooth things a bit.”

Roland’s nose wrinkled with disdain. “You bake?”

“Yeah.” Kylo couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes. “You know, if that’s a dig at my sexual preferences, it’s useless, and you sound like you eat nothing but processed food.” He looked at Lucky, who clearly stifled a laugh and wound up snorting instead. “Besides, everyone likes bread.”

Roland had proved himself the sort that had to have the last word in every argument throughout the evening, and this was no exception. “What if they’re gluten intolerant?”

Kylo sighed. “Then they know not to eat bread, and it really sucks, and I was wrong. Most people like bread. And if you’re not careful, you’re not going to get any bread. Lucky, help me out.”

She turned to him and laughed. "If you piss him off and I don't get bread, I'm going to kick your ass. It's that good."

* * *

At 5am on Christmas morning, Kylo went for a run. It was dark and cold, but so long as he stuck to the highly frequented bike paths, the sidewalks were clear. His lungs burned with the cold and his chest ached, but he felt alive, like he could feel things again.

He got back and cleaned up, then started in on the strata. He’d never tell the Calrissians, but he put a pan of it together for the family and simply made himself a couple eggs on toast. There wasn’t really a point in preparing an entire pan for himself; it didn’t keep well in the fridge, as the bread got soggy from the eggs.

Once it was prepped, he took it down to the house and put it in the oven. He hung out in the kitchen until Lando woke up and wandered out. He scribbled instructions down as Lando prepared a pot of coffee, explained how to tell it was done, and made a run for it before Lando could try to talk him into staying around.

* * *

He spent the rest of the morning baking a stupid amount of bread. Once he got going, it was an easy pattern he could repeat over and over again, to the extent that his oven could handle.

The remainder of the day was spent working on a personal project in the garage. Maybe not the most exciting of holidays, but it was simple and straightforward. It stung, just a little bit, but it was alright. He was alright. For the first time in a long time, he felt alright about everything. He had his machines, the peace and quiet, and a couple drinks throughout the afternoon.

And it was alright.

* * *

The day after Christmas, he went to the garage and basically begged for his job back. The manager wasn’t happy about it, but they’d always been a bit short, and Kylo had long since proven his usefulness. They gave him a fair amount of part-time, which was good enough for the time being.

In the evenings, he spent his time in the gym or going through emails he’d gotten requesting custom work. It kept him busy enough.

He continued to run. Lucky said that he was dropping weight because he ran too much, but it made him feel better. He started taking her yoga class after she demanded he sit in on a session. Maybe it helped. Maybe it didn’t. Either way, he felt a bit better at the end of each session.

* * *

New Year’s Eve came around and Kylo found himself confronted by Chance, who had managed to take enough time off-site that the family could stay with Lando through the new year. “We’re taking the kids bowling for New Year’s, you want to come too?”

Kylo looked up at him. “I, ah…”

“If you’ve already got plans, I’ll take a no, but if you don’t, you’re coming with.”

“Bowling? Really?”

Chance grinned. “It’s one of those bowling alleys with blacklights and an arcade. They’re kids, it’ll be fun.”

* * *

It’d been ages since he’d bowled, but he hadn’t exactly expected to find himself bowling with bumpers.

The entire place was dark with the weird blue-black and neon décor that worked with blacklights. Zander wasn’t too bad. He had a natural sense of space and his aim was pretty good. He only bounced off the bumpers every once in awhile. Skylar, to her credit, tried. She tried _really_ hard. Chance wound up helping her, and her mood brightened significantly.

In the end, Zander wound up out-bowling all of them, and Kylo sat at the table, mildly amused that he’d been beaten by an eight year old.

Around 11 the kids were cranky and ready to go home. Lando wasn’t, and made his intentions clear. “There’s a bar across the street.”

“You going to get home alright dad?”

Lando shrugged. “That’s what I’m taking Ben with me for.”

Kylo glanced up. “Wait, what?”

* * *

Lando relaxed once they’d found a couple barstools.“You looked like you could use a drink, and I needed one as well. So I figured we’d let them take the kids home. They were energetic little monsters all week.”

Kylo nodded, accepting the drink that was slid across the tiled surface at him. The bar was pretty small, an independent little sports bar with a fairly modest patronage. It was the sort of place people would go to watch the game, but not so much for New Year’s Eve.

They talked awhile. The conversation went back to Kylo’s decision to drop from the competitive roster, and although Lando was uncertain, he nodded and listened as Kylo tried to explain why he was dropping out.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but you know yourself best. You’re the only one that can really make that decision. Besides, I trust you.” The bar was far from silent, but it was quiet. “You look like you could use another drink.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing with my life,” Kylo admitted.

Lando shrugged. “I’m old and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. It never really changes.”

Kylo looked around the bar, catching sight of a few couples and feeling a pang of loss. He averted his eyes and stared at the fresh drink, his thoughts refusing to behave. How was Hux? Was he spending New Year’s Eve on a date with someone? Hell, Kylo wouldn’t have even blamed him, it wasn’t like they were ever going to get back together.

Half an hour and three drinks later, the countdown was little more than the few patrons in the bar talking excitedly. There was one giggly middle-aged woman that counted drunkenly, although she wasn’t quite with the pattern and the people around her were fairly annoyed.

_3…2…1…Happy New Year!_

People around the bar were sharing New Year’s kisses, and there was a twinge of bitterness that sank into Kylo’s chest. The world wasn’t exactly blurry, but it certainly wasn’t steady. His phone buzzed in his hand and he answered the text, pausing a bit before pulling up another name and typing another text out.

Lando interrupted him, holding out his glass. “Cheers, happy New Year!”

There wasn’t much else to do but to put on a smile and slip his phone away in his pocket. They chatted and wound up leaving around 2, catching a ride and making their way back home.

Kylo crashed into bed, heartsick and hating himself again.

* * *

He woke in the morning with a hangover, a hard-on, and a general sense of self-hate that he wanted to scrub off his skin. He settled for climbing into a hot shower until it felt like the alcohol had been steamed out of his very pores.

After a shower, Kylo tried to summon the willpower to put something together for breakfast. Instead, he pulled his pajamas back on and flopped on the couch with his sketchbook, unwilling to do much of anything. What a way to start the new year.

Kylo flicked his phone on, glancing at his updates before turning to his messages. There was a name at the top of his message list that he hadn’t seen in ages, and a chill crawled over his skin as he opened his conversation with Hux.

_happy new year I hope youre doing alright. and im sorry_

Shame and embarrassment burned in his chest, but the text was thankfully unsent. He deleted it, shoving the incident to the back of his mind.

The shop and the gym were both closed for the holiday, so Kylo lumped about his apartment all day. He told himself it was a day to reset and relax, but the text he’d nearly sent while drunk pretty much ruined his mood.

That, and the hangover didn’t help.

* * *

The next day, though, he was up at his usual time. It was easy enough to get going, to fall back into his old pattern.

The next couple weeks were weirdly transitional. He went back to work, no harm done, although getting as many hours as he wanted was a bit of a nightmare. He went back to the gym, struggling internally for a couple days before finally being able to get back into training workouts.

He was finally getting back into the swing of things. Lando had been right, he didn’t need school hanging over his head until he got himself straightened out.

Kylo met the guys he was going to be working with. They were a pack of nightmares. There were six of them, and from the start Kylo refused to take any of their shit. “Here, we operate on a system of mutual respect. If you aren’t willing to respect me, I’m going to treat you like a child, rather than a grown-ass adult. If you fight among each other, I will find out, and we’ll have a discussion about behavior. For the most part, you’re here to hit things, and I get it.” He looked around at them. “Any problems or questions?”

“Yeah, you didn’t look like a little bitch in the pictures they sent out.”

Kylo turned on the tallest and oldest of the kids, who should have been a senior but had failed enough classes to barely scrape through sophomore levels. “I’m not sure what pictures they sent out, but you’re welcome to try me.”

“I dunno, you just don’t look like a guy that went 14-2 last season.”

Internally, Kylo couldn’t argue with him. He didn’t look the same as a year ago. He’d slimmed out, his hair was long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail, and he wore loose sweats and a long sleeve t-shirt that did a passable job of hiding the muscle he’d maintained.

But fuck if some little shit was going to debate his ability to teach them. “Come on, then.”

It was simple enough. The kid swung a lazy punch at him, which he blocked. As another couple punches failed to get through his guard, the kid got frustrated and tried simply hitting harder. When that failed, he tried throwing a couple undercuts and hooks in, with little luck.

“Come on, this isn’t supposed to be hard. Hit me!” Kylo knew it was low, but hell if he wasn’t going to taunt this kid.

The kid flung a punch, out of control and desperate. Kylo’d had enough, so he redirected the blow, turned, and used the kid’s momentum and poor balance to flip him. He landed on his back on the floor with a whoosh of breath from his lungs and an ‘ooof!’ as he hit.

“Look, I’m not going to take any of your shit. You guys have to earn my trust. You can leave, you’re welcome to leave whenever you want. But if you stick around, you’ll have a family here. We’re family here at Millennium, and if you guys get your shit together well enough, you’ll get through life alright.” Kylo held a hand out to help the kid up.

The rest of the practices that week went smoothly, or smooth-ish. After the first incident, the guys seemed willing to listen to him, even if they fought with each other constantly.

It wasn’t perfect, he knew. There was progress, and they all made an effort to be there. It was a start.

* * *

He’d settled into a comfortable pattern when Carol came back to school, and therefore the gym. Her reappearance still came as a surprise.

“Kylo you piece of shit, you’d better start talking before I hit you.”

The shock of her voice was like someone had wired him to a wall socket. He straightened up abruptly, spinning away from his workout and desperately searching for words. “Uhhh…”

“Do you even get how many people were looking for you?” Her voice was a little shaky. “You just disappeared, no note, no text, nothing!”

“Um. Yeah.”

“What the hell did you think you were going to accomplish??”

He shook his head. “I can’t explain it. The closest I can get is to say I just needed to leave for awhile. I needed to get my head screwed on straight.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.” She glared at him for a long minute, searching his face for some sort of explanation. Whatever it was she was searching for, she seemed to find it, and her expression softened. “You’re an idiot if you think people didn’t care about you. Even after what happened.”

He sort of shrugged off the comment until she stepped in and held her arms out for a hug, waiting until he accepted the silent offer. Carol gave unbelievably good hugs. If there was such a thing as a perfect hug, it was the sort of hug Carol could give. She was a tiny bit taller than him, the perfect height to tuck his chin over her shoulder and just slump a bit. She held tight, but not so tight that it hurt or squeezed his lungs, just the right amount to say _I’m here_ without being weird.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. Although from what I heard, you both have some serious apologies to make,” Carol said.

“So.” He cleared his throat as they separated. “How’s…”

“Don’t you dare ask me about Hux. I’ll kick your ass.”

“Ah.” He fell silent.

“You need to ask him yourself.” She looked at him intently, and when that didn’t get much of a reaction, she shook her head and sighed. “You’re still a goddamn idiot.”

He found there wasn’t much else to do but take the criticism, so he stood there silently as she continued to stare him down. Eventually, she shook her head and sighed. “You’re an idiot, but it’s not exactly fair of me to call you out on your shit and not acknowledge that he was awful as well.”

“Yeah, but…there’s a difference between saying something shitty and hitting someone.”

“Kylo. I know that. You’re both assholes in different ways, and you need to talk it out. ”

* * *

The new routine lasted two full weeks into the new year, but nothing could last forever. Lucky took some time off, and the gym seemed a bit less friendly without her around. Carol still seemed a bit uncertain around him, and the people he’d worked with still didn’t understand why he’d dropped out of competition.

It was a Friday evening, about an hour after the Fighting Chance group had finished up and left, when the new girl walked in.

Kylo almost missed her. She was fairly unremarkable and quiet, up until the point that she tapped him on the shoulder. “Hi. So I’m new around here, and you look like you’re one of the instructors. I was looking for somewhere to work out?”

He took one look at her and sighed. This wasn’t his area, it was Lucky’s, but she wasn’t here. The girl was pretty small, the sort of wiry thinness that came in someone that wasn’t eating properly. Another girl starving herself for the sake of fashion, probably. Lucky would have a conniption fit.

“You’re probably looking for the Booty Boot Camp class, it’s being taught by a sub this week because the normal teacher is out of town. Spots for that are kind of in high demand though, you’ll need to get on the waiting list. There are a couple core-focused classes, a yoga class, Zumba, a kickboxing class… ”

She frowned. “That’s not what I’m looking for, I’m looking for a club where people are actually up to spar. Millennium was listed online as one of the few gyms in the area that caters to boxing and MMA.”

Kylo took one look at her and almost groaned. Even with all the shit he’d put himself through in the last two months, he’d have guessed he could pick her up with one arm. She was pretty and tiny, fairly average in terms of height, but with a delicate bone structure that made her look breakable.

“Look, our program probably isn’t the best choice for you…”

“Try me.”

He sighed. “Fine. Run to the office, get Lando to give you a waiver. We’ll see what you can do once you’ve signed one.” He rolled his eyes after her, making a face at Zeroes, who gave him an amused shrug.

When the girl came back, he sighed and grabbed focus mitts as she wrapped her hands and frowned at him. “Look, I’m not going to spar with you but we can...”

She shook her head. “Don’t give me any of that crap. Just try me.”

“You’re, what, half my size?” The memory of Hux slamming backward into the counter flashed through his mind, and Hux probably had fifty pounds on her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Really, I don’t want to hit a girl…”

Her eyes seemed to flare with determination and righteous fury at his remark, which was the last thing out of his mouth before she hit him like a train. A tiny, angry train.

* * *

He found himself sitting in the hospital, dropped off by Lando, with what could only be a broken nose and split cheek. He could feel the bones and cartilage grinding together. That, and his ribs…fuck, they hurt.

Of all the things he’d expected from her, he never would have guessed she’d get so pissed off and an offhand remark. Even if it was sort of sexist.

Alright, fine, it had been totally sexist.

* * *

Carol showed up after they set his nose, stitched the small split the break had caused across the bridge of his nose, and x-rayed him to diagnose cracked ribs. Only hairline fractures, they said, but it would be best if he didn’t push anything for six weeks or so. Six weeks of minimal workouts. He wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep through those weeks, although for obvious reasons, that wasn’t going to work.

Carol gave him a disparaging look when he saw her. “So.”

“So?”

“Sounds like you were an ass to someone. Again.”

“Sort of.”

“And she decked you.”

“Yes.”

“And flipped you.”

He sighed heavily, a splinter of pain jarring his chest. “Look, it sounds like you already got the whole story.”

“I told Lando I’d pick you up. He’s fairly irritated with you, so I think you should crash at my place for a bit.”

Something between fear and worry sparked in Kylo’s chest. “What about Hux?”

“Nah, he's probably not home. It’ll be fine.”

* * *

The ride was silent and awkward. She helped him out of the car when they got there, and it became clear just how much his ribs hurt. They’d said there wasn’t much they could do for broken ribs and he would just have to tough it out. Carol opened the door, swinging it open and ushering him in.

Hux was sitting on the couch in the living room, a book open on his lap.

Kylo looked at him for a long moment, tried to retreat, then turned to Carol, who had a hand behind his back and wasn’t letting him go anywhere. Words tumbled out, sounding more desperate than he’d thought they would. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be here.”

Carol shrugged. “You’re too proud for your own good, so I lied.”

There was a thump as Hux closed his book and glared at him. “Wow. Good to see you too. You look like shit.”

“I’m sorry.” The words stumbled out. “I know it doesn’t even start to fix things, but…you should at least know I’m sorry, and that I understand that I fucked up.”

Hux’s eyebrows rose and he stared Kylo down. Anxiety and a horrible sense of fate seemed to squeeze Kylo’s chest, like Hux was judge, jury, and executioner.

And all he could do was wait for his sentence.

After what felt like an eternity, Hux nodded and looked away. “We both fucked up.”

Carol looked between the two of them. “I’d leave you two to your own devices, but I’m not sure if you’re making up or simply trying to be civil. That sort of sounded like half an apology, so I'm not letting the two of you be in the same room without me until I know I won't walk back in to find one of you dead.”

Hux’s eyes were back on Kylo’s. “I’m not sure either.”

“At least I already said I’m sorry,” Kylo grumbled. "I'm not the one holding out on an apology here."

“At least I’m not the one that pissed off some pipsqueak and got my nose and ribs broken for my trouble,” Hux shot back. "And you're the one that punched..."

“No Hux, you pissed off someone larger than you, and got your face split open as well,” Carol snapped, her temper finally cresting. “Now shush.”

But Kylo wasn’t about to let it go, and threw back, “Oh, don’t you have a way with words,” he couldn’t keep the snarl from his voice as anger flooded in. “Always favor salting the wound, don’t you?”

If Carol had been angry before, she was furious now. She spun on him and yelled, “Hey! Both of you shut up before I shut you up myself.”

Hux never broke his gaze, simply staring as though he could burn a hole straight through Kylo’s face. When that didn’t work, his lips thinned and he settled back into his seat. “Forgive my maladroitness.”

Kylo glared, not entirely sure what the word even meant, and almost positive Hux had used it with that assumption.

Carol looked between the two of them. “Behave.”

* * *

An hour later, once tempers had cooled a bit, Carol offhandedly called it 'an uneasy truce between two assholes'. Neither of them could actually argue with her assessment, and they let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you can guess what the Fighting Chance kids are going to start calling themselves.
> 
> Questions, comments, and corrections always welcome!


	12. Balestra

The first week back at school, they had another tournament. Hux didn’t feel too bad about it, especially when he found himself less sore in the days after. He felt stronger, and some of his shirts were pulling tight across his shoulders and chest. It wasn’t a huge victory, seeing as he didn’t have much muscle to start with, but it was a step in the right direction. He only lost three bouts in five teams, just behind Zare’s two losses. As a squad, they won against all but one of the other teams, and the team they lost to was a varsity team competing against club teams. It was pretty much expected.

* * *

The next week started calmly enough. The semester was relaxed in comparison to all of the previous ones; Hux was going to graduate unless he bombed an easy class so badly he didn’t get the final set of credits he needed. Instead, he spent much of his efforts on classes he was genuinely interested in. That, and still trying to find a job.

Carol had just hopped out of a post-workout shower when the chaos started. “Hey what are you up to tonight?”

He glanced up. “I dunno, what’s up?”

She reached up, toweling her hair off. “Uh…Kylo is coming over.”

“Look, I know you’re trying to get us to talk this out but it’s not going to work. I’m still pissed.”

“No I’m not, and I’m not asking you to forgive him. But he’s had a really shit day, and I want to be a decent friend. I’m not going to ask you to leave, but he’s not in any shape to go home alone right now, and Lucky is in a conference in New York.”

Hux paused. “What happened?”

“A new girl came in, after he’d been working with Chewie. She was this really sweet little thing, and he wanted to see where she was before giving her the full rundown on things. Admittedly, he always comes off as kind of a dick, so that didn’t help.”

“Uh-huh.” He could see it coming from a mile away. “How did that play out?”

“She decked him and flipped him. Broke his nose, split it open, and cracked some ribs.”

“Holy shit, what?”

Carol grimaced. “Yeah. He just got out of the doctor’s and apparently he doesn’t want to take any of the painkillers they scripted him. I need to go pick him up, Lando’s the one that took him earlier but he had to go back to the gym. He’s pretty pissed at Kylo and I can’t even blame him. And I know he’s going to try to drink the pain away if he’s left alone. Because he’s fucking stupid like that.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“To be totally honest, I don’t want him drinking, but more than that I don’t want him drinking alone right now. So I was thinking he could come over and I could keep an eye on him.” She hesitated. “I’m also sort of trying to warn you. Because whether or not you like him or not, he’s my friend and I’m trying to make sure he’s alright.”

A string of expletives ran through his head, but Carol had a point. If he was as messed up as he sounded, he shouldn’t be left alone. Hux’s mind flitted through the things that needed to get done. “Yeah, yeah definitely. Help me clean the place really quick?”

“Look, have you seen his place? He doesn’t care if there’s clean laundry sitting out…”

“He might not, but I do. Just do me a favor and at least help me for like ten minutes. I don’t want him bleeding on my shirts. Or on the couch.”

* * *

Nearly an hour later the sound of the lock being turned drew his attention to the door, and he looked up from where he was curled up on the couch, scribbling notes. Carol opened the door, swinging it open and ushering the one person Hux hated more than anyone else in.

Kylo looked…lesser. That was the first way he could think of to describe how bad he looked. The gash on his face was stitched and a hideous angry red that was already purpling. Blood was pooling around his eye and Hux suppressed a laugh. Oh, the twisted irony. He’d been similarly decked, although Kylo was clearly the worse for it.

Somehow, that wasn’t quite it. It might have been his proximity to Carol, but he looked smaller, thinner. Less intimidating and just…less. Kylo stopped dead, looked at him for a long moment, tried to retreat, and then turned to Carol, who had a hand on his shoulder and wasn’t letting him go anywhere. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be here.”

She shrugged. “You’re too proud for your own good, so I lied.”

Hux snapped his book shut, pointedly dragging their attention back to him. The point was too easy not to take. “Wow. Good to see you too. You look like shit.”

Of all the things Hux had expected, what followed hadn’t been one of them. “I’m sorry.” The words were slow and stilted, but still there. “I know it doesn’t even start to fix things, but…you should at least know I’m sorry, and that I understand that I fucked up.”

An apology? Hux stared him down, trying to decide if he was being sincere or not. Kylo’s face, despite the stitches and rapid bruising, was an open book. His regret was plain to see, and satisfaction curled in Hux’s chest. Kylo admitting he fucked up was a start.

Then again, he wasn’t the only one who’d done something that was beyond forgiving. As much as it burned him to do so, Hux forced himself to acknowledge that he’d made mistakes as well. “We both fucked up.”

“I’d leave you two to your own devices, but I’m not sure if you’re making up or simply trying not to kill each other,” Carol chimed in.

In all reality, he still wanted to give Kylo a taste of his own medicine. He wasn’t sure if they were finding peace or simply trying to inhabit the same space civilly. “Me neither.”

“At least I already said I’m sorry.” Kylo whined.

Hux wasn’t going to let that pass. “At least I’m not the one that pissed off some pipsqueak and got my nose and ribs broken for my trouble.”

“No Hux, you pissed off someone larger than you, and got your face split open as well,” Carol snapped. “Now shush.”

“Oh, don’t you have a way with words,” Kylo said, standing a bit straighter and wincing as he ignored Carol’s reprimand. “Always favor salting the wound, don’t you?”

If Carol’s hackles rose. “Hey! Both of you shut up before I shut you up myself.”

Hux bit back another snappy response. “Forgive my maladroitness.”

Carol looked between the two of them. “Behave.”

It was near impossible to stop himself, but Hux took a breath and settled back in to read, studiously ignoring Kylo as Carol helped him sit down.

* * *

Kylo sulked on the couch as Carol hunted through the kitchen for something to fix. Eventually, Hux sighed and stood up, leaving his notes in favor of food. He pulled pasta out of the fridge and put water on to boil as he pulled one of the containers of sauce his aunts had sent back with him. It was an easy enough meal and enough for three, so there was little to complain about. The smell of the sauce in the saucepan was familiar and welcoming, and once everything was finished he started plating it.

“You want food?” He said it a bit sharper than needed, but he half expected Kylo to argue, even though he’d seen him peering over the back of the couch, half curious.

“Um. I’m alright.”

Carol wasn’t having any of that. “Get your ass over here.” He slumped himself over to the kitchen and sat on one of the bar stools with obvious discomfort. Hux put a plate in front of him, rather less gently than usual.

The first bite drew a small appreciative noise out of him and Hux nearly laughed. Or he might have, if he weren’t so pissed off by his presence. Still, there was a spark of familial pride that flared. Kylo’s voice was quiet when he said, “I didn’t know you could cook.”

Hux snorted. “Not like this, I can’t. It’s my aunt’s, she sent it back to school with me because somebody,” he turned to glare at Carol, “thinks it’s acceptable to cook with Prego.”

She shrugged. “I’m not going to apologize. I don’t have your sensitive Italian taste buds, it’s not like I can tell the difference.”

“The _hell_ do you mean you can’t tell the difference?!” Hux put a plate in front of her and glared. “You eat that and tell me you can’t tell the difference. Look me in the eye and tell me, and I’m going to call you uncivilized swine if you do.”

It was barely a minute before Carol conceded defeat. “Alright, fine, this is way better. But I can still live with Prego.”

“Blasphemy,” Hux grumbled.

“This really is amazing.”

“Shut up Kylo.”

* * *

It became clear that Kylo was in no condition to go home. Hux watched, half amused, half sympathetic, all with a distinct feeling of schadenfreude, as Kylo struggled through basic tasks. Carol gave him larger clothes to sleep in, helping him pull his shirt over his head and whistling at the bruises. “Yikes. Those are nasty.”

“The doctor said I should sleep sitting up if I can, like a recliner or something,” he said.

“The armchair’s all yours, as long as you need.” Carol touched the lighter bruising on his side tentatively, and he winced. “Where are the fractures?”

“The ones just above your floating ribs, right?” Hux finally spoke up. They both turned to look at him, or at least, Carol did. Kylo started to turn and then hissed in pain. “My cousin broke some in a car crash a couple years ago.”

“Yeah, they said multiple fractures between seven and ten,” Kylo gritted through clenched teeth.

“Sucks to be you.” Hux finally let it go. It was almost too easy, poking at Kylo while he was injured. Like a balm on his own wounded pride. Sure, it made him a right asshole, but Hux could deal with that.

* * *

So Hux found himself living with the man he knew he should hate more than anyone else. They’d reached some sort of truce, for Carol’s sake, and it was tolerable so long as they avoided each other as much as possible.

It certainly wasn’t impossible, with their schedules. Kylo was up and out early, going to work despite the injuries. Hux got up late and didn’t come home until late, so for the most part, the only interaction between them was in the late evenings.

Hux got a good look at him the next day, once the bruises had fully developed. He had a full black eye on the same side as the gash, and bruising that had run down under his eye on the other side. He moved gingerly, and though Hux couldn’t see it, he was certain Kylo’s side had bloomed into a full sheet of florid black and blue bruises.

Ultimately, Hux knew it was petty, but the sense of revenge he got from the entire situation was satisfying, like he’d been avenged by some tiny little string bean of a girl. His loathing for Kylo faded into mere dislike. Karma was a bitch.

* * *

The first issue cropped up a couple days later, when Hux was rifling around the closet.

“Carol!”

“What?”

“You moved the toilet paper?”

It had been an ongoing argument between them all year. She thought it was hilarious to push the toilet paper to the back of the top shelf, where he just barely couldn’t reach it without getting a chair. She could grab it if she jumped, but she had an extra couple inches on him.

“Yeah?”

“I’m assuming you finally moved it to a lower shelf because he couldn’t reach it?”

“He could reach it, just not with the ribs. There’s a difference.”

“So you barely push it out of my reach so I have to go get a goddamn chair and then you take pity on him because he antagonized some little girl enough to get his ass kicked?!?” Hux snapped, annoyed to the point of ire.

“Yeah, not my problem you’re short,” she laughed as she filled her water bottle with ice cubes.

“I swear to god Carol, so help me I will kick your ass.”

“Hah! You wish you could.”

Hux grumbled and closed the closet. He missed how Kylo leaned back on the couch with satisfaction before wincing as the pain in his ribs reminded him that this was punishment.

* * *

Apparently, Kylo was rather a picky eater, something Hux hadn’t noticed before.

It became clear in what Hux started mentally referring to as the ‘macaroni incident’. It’d been a long day, and he hadn’t been in a mood to cook when he got home. Boxed macaroni had been the obvious solution, so he’d tossed together a couple boxes, still working when Kylo showed up.

Of course, Kylo took two steps into the kitchen and made a face. “What the hell are you making?”

“Macaroni and cheese.”

“From a box?”

“Shut up, I was just trying to make something fast.”

“You’re joking.” In the space of about a minute and a half, Hux found himself ushered out of the kitchen as Kylo took over. “Who the fuck actually eats boxed macaroni and cheese?”

“What, now you’re being elitist about food?”

“I actually care what a fuel my body with. And this is rubbish.”

“You don’t have to eat it, you know.”

“Right, but let me try to fix it.”

Hux paused. “What?”

“Let me try to make it something you’d actually want to eat.”

Twenty minutes later, he’d somehow managed to turn boxed macaroni into some sort of baked macaroni casserole thing with half a dozen other things in it. Hux stared, finally speechless, as Kylo moved around the kitchen without question. He must have snooped through all their drawers, to know where everything he needed was without fail.

“You cook?” he couldn’t keep himself from asking when Kylo put everything in a glass pan and in the oven.

Kylo shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And you…pretended like you don’t?”

“You never asked.”

Hux stared at the wall, a vague sense of embarrassment burning up his neck. “Carol served you pasta and bottled sauce.”

“It’s not like I won’t eat other food. Except this. Macaroni and cheese like this is a sin.”

“What, do you spend time making it homemade?”

“I mean, it’s not something I usually eat, but yeah. If macaroni and cheese is going to be worth having, it has to be more than just the boxed stuff.”

When it all came out of the oven, it was delicious. Hux very nearly asked for the recipe, but pride held him back.

* * *

They functioned in an uneasy truce, somehow managing not to kill each other in the first couple days, even when Carol wasn’t there. Hux spent most of his time on job applications, drinking obscene amounts of coffee and operating in a constant state of tension. A couple days turned into a week, then two. Kylo didn’t sleep there all the time, only when his ribs hurt particularly badly.

Hux was perched on one of the barstools one of the many mornings when the lock turned and Kylo came in. It took a moment for Hux’s brain to register that Kylo had unlocked the door to get in, before irritation set in. “What, are you taking on the position of third roommate?”

Kylo had the sense to look embarrassed. “Carol gave me the spare key.”

“You’re kidding.”

There was a moment of silence as Kylo picked up his backpack. “Look, I know you hate me, and I’m not asking for a second chance, but could we maybe…come to some sort of real truce? Not this thing we have right now? Hell, it’s like walking on eggshells.”

“I’m pretty much already giving you a second chance. Or did you not get that’s what this is?”

Kylo started. “That’s…what?”

Oh. Kylo hadn’t figured it out yet. He took a deep breath. “I’ll give you a second chance at being an actual decent human being, I’m not going to throw you out of the apartment just yet. We both already admitted we were shit, it’s a truce. But I want to make this clear,” Hux stared him down. “If you ever, and I mean ever, raise a hand to me again…you’d better kill me, because we’re done. Once was my limit. There won’t be a second time.”

Kylo looked a bit abashed, but he grinned. “I think you’re missing the point of a ‘second chance’. The point is to not fuck up.”

“Let’s just say my expectations weren’t set particularly high.”

Kylo was quiet for a bit. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “I dropped out of tournaments, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I’m only coaching these days. Well, I dropped out before this mess,” he made a vague motion to his chest, “so it’s not like I’m planning to jump back in any time soon, if ever.”

Hux stared as it sank in. “…why?”

Kylo’s face twisted. “I don’t want to hurt the people I actually care about.”

“And…am I supposed to think I qualify as part of that list?”

“Whether you want to or not, you do.”

“Hm.”

* * *

Three weeks into the semester, there was another team tournament. Hux found that he felt better than ever, but he still lost to Poe Dameron. Barely, but a loss was a loss.

After the morning’s bouts, the teams sat around eating lunch together. Poe’s win had put him in a good mood, but Hux was still surprised when he gave him a lead on a job with the National Science Foundation, something he’d heard about from his father, promising to email Hux the link to apply.

“I’ll see if my dad’ll put in a good word for you with his old boss, so long as you’re interested. It might not be perfect, but he’s the kind of person that would be totally fine with that.”

Poe, good to his word, emailed the link two days later.

Hux rifled through the few details they provided, excitement mounting. It was a temporary contracted position, one year long, but with potential extension of contract. He applied without a second thought. On the off chance he got a call back, he could work with a position like that, even if it were only temporary.

* * *

After four weeks of broken ribs and medical restraints, Kylo was still spending more time than was altogether necessary at their apartment, and Hux could tell he was about ready to have a mental break. Although Hux could feel the pressure of trying to get a job slowly strangling him, he wasn’t ready to live with an unstable disaster.

Maybe it was self-serving. Maybe it was empathy. Either way, Hux got tired of seeing Kylo’s legs hanging off the too-small couch as he slept, so he let him crash in his bed while Hux worked at his desk. At some point, he’d exhaustedly decided to crawl in as well, making it very clear that the moment Kylo tried anything stupid, he was out of there.

Kylo, for his part, behaved. He woke up early and was usually gone by the time Hux got up. For the most part, the night terrors had receded, and he didn’t wake up screaming.

It was an unusual system for both of them, but it worked. They were functional together, no fucking required. Hux would never admit it, but there was something relaxing about climbing into a warm bed, and it was always warm. Kylo was a human furnace.

That wasn’t to say it wasn’t difficult, that Hux didn’t have to carefully crush the desire to shove Kylo into the wall and kiss his lips until they bled. He pretended he didn’t notice that Kylo spent longer than was necessary when he showered and crashed at Hux and Carol’s place, or that he made a conscious effort to think things through before he said anything insulting.

He was grateful that Kylo left early when he stayed, so Hux didn’t have to wake up, turned on and miserable, to see the one person he told himself should be off limits. Feeling an arm wrap around his waist in the night, or a warm forehead pressed against his neck and spine….it was fine. Kylo was asleep. It was unintentional.

* * *

Six weeks out from breaking his ribs, Kylo started to get clingier at night. On one occasion Hux woke to find arms wrapped entirely around him, and he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He carefully extracted himself from the grip, one arm wrapped around his body, the other hand clinging to his waist.

The half hour he spent in the shower didn’t quite wash the feeling of touch away.

It slowly became apparent to Hux that he was torturing himself. He couldn’t help but notice with satisfaction that Kylo was finally healing, that he didn’t wince as he moved anymore. Little things caught Hux off guard, and he found himself running away from Kylo’s sudden crooked smiles and the once-comforting presence occasionally sprawled in his bed. He’d think he was over it, and then Kylo would do something small, and the empty ache in his chest would come back again, full force.

He would never have considered himself the sort to pine, but this was a bit too close to it for comfort.

* * *

Hux got a call back from the National Science Foundation, asking for samples of his work and a phone interview. He very nearly jumped in excitement, but it was the lab so he reined himself in, trying to control his reaction. Still, Professor Daala was eagle-eyed, and noticed his immediate change in demeanor. “Good news?”

“Hopefully, I got a job interview with the NSF.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know you were applying there. What for?”

“A friend pointed me toward a short term position with the Recent Graduates program, but I’d like to eventually get into the DoE.”

Daala looked thoughtful. “If you need references, let me know. I’d be more than happy to write one for you, and I know a couple people that might be able to pull some strings.”

He perked up with that a bit. “That would be fantastic, thank you.”

* * *

Life seemed to take on a nervous pace. Hux couldn’t quite let himself believe he had a shot at the NSF position, so he continued hunting and applying for jobs. It was hard to find something that fit within the context of the policy making field he wanted to go into, but he scraped up half a dozen potential positions.

Kylo really seemed to have taken to his new coaching position. Half the time Hux saw him, he talked about the kids and all the progress they were making. He despaired over one of them, who hated the program, hated everyone, all kinds of issues, but Kylo just didn’t seem willing to give up on him.

It spoke for him, it really did. Hux never would have seen Kylo as a kids coach, but he’d taken to it like a duck to water. He was a natural teacher, and the kids were just the right age range. They were old enough for Kylo to be a bit abrasive and for them to see him as a friend as well as a coach, but not so old that they thought they knew best.

The stress seemed to tighten around Hux’s chest as the weeks passed, like he would never hear back from any of the jobs he’d applied for. A new sense of urgency gripped him. He’d have to move back in with his parents, he’d have to take on a job he hated, he’d end up taking whatever he could get, a job that had nothing to do with his degrees…

Somehow, Kylo seemed to level him when the world spiraled out of control. So Hux let him back into his life, as terrifying as it was.

* * *

“I’m going out. You should come with me.”

“What?” Hux hadn’t even made it to the apartment yet. Kylo had caught him on his way up, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks.

“Carol brought someone back for a ‘study session’, and it seems to have turned into something more.”

“Ah.” Suddenly, the apartment was a lot less appealing. Sure, he had headphones, but hanging out with Kylo was rather preferable to pretending not to hear the uncomfortable noises that came though the noise blockers.

“Come on. I know a coffee place, you’d probably like it.”

So Hux found himself walking at pace with him, suddenly grateful for his own height as Kylo set the pace. They walked past shops and Hux took the opportunity to stare at Kylo in the reflection of the window. He hadn’t really put any weight back on. He’d definitely thinned out, but he seemed…happier, somehow. His lips had cracked from the cold, probably while he was out running. “Here.” Hux passed him a stick of chapstick, which Kylo stared at for a second. “Do you not want it?”

“I’m trying to figure out why you care?”

“Because, shockingly, I almost give a shit about you.”

“Really.” The dry amusement was clear in Kylo’s voice.

“I give maybe like…half of one. Don’t push your luck.” Hux huffed, trying to sneak around the question neither of them was quite ready to answer.

Kylo applied the chapstick, making a face at the slight sting of menthol where his lip had split before grinning. It was infectious, and Hux found himself smiling a bit as well.

* * *

“The hell do you mean, you haven’t seen Lord of the Rings?”

They sat in the café Kylo had suggested, drinking coffee. The place had a dark, almost grungy feel, but in a way that suggested that was what they’d been aiming for rather than suggesting uncleanliness. Hux shrugged. “I’ve seen chunks of it, but never actually watched the whole thing.”

Kylo frowned, the expression pulling on the skin where his stitches had been removed. “That needs to be fixed.”

“I don’t…”

“You’re graduating and you’ve got like twelve credits. You can make some time for one of the best series of all time.”

They decided to watch the movie at Kylo’s place, to give Carol some peace and quiet as she studied for her first exam of the semester. On his way over, Hux swung by one of the local pizza joints to pick up an order.

As he stood at the door, Hux realized that even when they’d been together before, he’d never actually seen Kylo’s place. He’d seen the garage, he’d seen Lando’s place, but the space where Kylo actually lived was like a big blank in his head. He’d always filled something generic in, as it was strange to imagine Kylo doing anything as menial as watching TV or sleeping.

He knocked and Kylo let him in, dropping the pizza on the coffee table before waving a hand. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab plates.”

Hux looked around. In general, the place was much tidier than he’d expected. There were a couple of framed pictures that added a personal touch, but other than that, not much in the way of debris of living. What could be construed as a mess, or more likely ‘organized chaos’, was downstairs in the garage.

The entire place was pretty stark, other than a couple larger statement pieces. There was a trio of huge canvases above the couch, airbrushed with a sunset and overlaid with shadowy willow trees silhouetted against the colors. It was oddly pretty, not exactly the sort of thing Hux would have expected from him, but striking nonetheless.

His eyes stopped at the broadsword on the wall near the door. For a beat, there was nothing more surprising about that than about the rest of the apartment. Then his brain re-loaded the information and all he could think was _who actually keeps a broadsword in their apartment?_

Kylo, apparently.

Absentmindedly, Hux followed him toward the kitchen, where he found a bit more of the chaos he’d expected. In a contrast to the stark emptiness of the rest of the apartment, the open shelves of the kitchen were hilariously well stocked with jars and containers of things Hux often didn’t recognize.

Kylo stood in front of a cabinet he’d opened, seemingly debating over plates. He settled and grabbed a couple, then turned around and noticed Hux staring at a couple components of the kitchen. It was all bizarre. There was fruit in a bowl on the counter by the electric kettle, which Hux was almost surprised to see there. It was almost like Kylo was normal, like he had space in his life for mundane things like cooking.

“You alright?” Kylo’s voice summoned him back to the present.

“Right, sorry.”

The couch was a moderately worn lump, stupidly comfortable. Halfway through the movie, Hux found himself slumping on the cushions, his eyes bleary for ages before he finally dropped off to sleep.

* * *

He woke in an unfamiliar bed. Empty, but that did little to make him feel better.

The note on the counter was scribbled on the back of a scrap of paper, horrible handwriting that looked like a middle schooler’s script.

_You passed out, I figured you could sleep til whenever. Coffee and the grinder are above the fridge, there’s a press on the counter._

_Needed to go to work, talk to you later. Text if you need anything_

_-K_

Hux stared at the note, uncertain what to make of the roiling emotion in his chest. Eventually he settled for stuffing it in the pocket of his sweats and hunting down coffee.

* * *

They texted, but it was two days before Hux saw him again. He ran by Kylo’s place to drop off a number of things that had been thrown in various loads of laundry, and more importantly, his running shoes, which had started to make the space by the front door smell.

Kylo opened the garage door, sipping a drink and grinning. “How goes?”

“I’m tired and I’ve got a ton of your stuff from our place.”

“Yeah, come on in.” Kylo waved him in and went back toward where he’d been working. He looked down at the beer in his hand, considering. “You want something to drink?”

“What are you drinking?” Hux asked, trying to ease into conversation.

Kylo held the bottle out. “It’s a bourbon barrel ale, pretty dark.”

Hux gave it a look before taking a sip and wrinkling his nose. “I’m more of an IPA person myself.”

“There’s a couple Stone IPAs in the minifridge, a gift from Chance. I’m not a fan, help yourself.”

Hux grabbed a drink and leaned up against the workbench. There was a distinct feeling that he was drowning as he watched Kylo move about the garage, beer in hand, wrench in hand, beer in hand again, all as he talked excitedly about the bike disassembled on the tarp and table. Relaxed, he talked with his hands, languid and openly enthusiastic. It was the way he smiled as he talked, like the weight of years had finally fallen from his shoulders. He cut an oddly striking figure, dirty jeans, ratty t-shirt, and all. Something about the way his hips cocked when he finally stilled, at ease in an environment he was intimately familiar with.

Hux was struck with the way Kylo had let him in this time, an easy familiarity that was entirely unlike the last time they’d talked about his bikes.

The hum that ran under Hux’s skin said that the same tension was there, but…different this time. Now they knew the two of them were a volatile combination, and the stakes were higher. Hux, quite frankly, was nervous. Making a move wasn’t his area of expertise, and this time around, he didn’t want to make a mistake.

So rather than instigating something in a clear, blunt manner, he positioned himself between Kylo and the part of the bench he kept turning back to, switching out wrenches. The next time he turned to grab one, he found himself face to face with Hux and pulled up short.

Kylo’s face was an open book that spelled out fear and hope. His eyes shot wide an instant before Hux closed the distance, catching his lips. Kylo’s first response was to freeze in place like he’d made a mistake. After a moment, he started to relax and respond in kind.

It only lasted a moment before there were painfully deliberate hands that caught Hux’s shoulders and pushed him carefully away to create space between them. “Are you sure…?”

Hux felt stretched thin, like a rubber band about to snap. “No. I’m not. But I know I’ll regret it if we don’t even try to figure this out. I want to try again.”

“I don’t…I promised you I wouldn’t lay a hand on you.” Kylo’s words were strangely stilted, almost strangled. It occurred to Hux that there were very few times that he’d been the subject of Kylo’s full, undivided attention, and it was terrifyingly intense, like being stared down by some sort of predatory bird. “I’m not…I thought…I’d ask.”

Hux took a deep breath. “You’ve had strike one. Strike two and you’re done…we’re done,” he corrected. “I think I’ve already made that pretty clear.”

“Of course. I swear.”

“Then you don’t have to ask.”

* * *

“You’re in a particularly good mood,” Carol said the next morning. She was right. There was a lightness to the world, what some people might have called a bounce in his step.

“I think things are going to work out.”

“Good news?”

He considered. “Yes. I think.”

* * *

Another couple days passed and Friday came around. Carol left for a conference with the head of her department and a couple other select undergrads. Hux was ready for the weekend, looking forward to having time to unwind.

He opened the door and was greeted by the lights turned down low. And…candles? What the…?

Kylo looked up at him from where he sat at the table. “Hi.”

“What…? Were you waiting for me to come in?”

“I wanted to say thank you. Carol suggested a romantic dinner and, well…here we are.”

“Carol? What, seriously? You really didn’t have to…” he stumbled over his words, finally caught off guard.

Kylo stood up. “But I wanted to.”

Hux’s brain was still hung up on the weirdness of the entire situation. It was the most ridiculously domestic thing he’d ever seen from Kylo, and he blinked again, trying to figure out if he was awake or not.

“Wine?” Kylo held up a bottle and a glass.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope. And I’m taking that as a yes.”

Hux stared at the wine glass that was pressed into his hand a moment later as Kylo rattled off a number of things he couldn’t even understand. “I made deconstructed pate de pomme de terre to start, wrapped and baked in…”

Hux looked down at the parceled appetizer, something wrapped in thin-rolled dough. Whatever it was, was meticulously plated, practically a piece of art. Hux watched as Kylo served plates, hoping it didn’t have shellfish in it. What the hell was it anyway? Something delicious, he quickly realized. Potato and something? Mostly potato.

“So the main course is a surprise, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I’m not even sure what to say at this point,” Hux said. Kylo grinned and swept over to the table, placing another meticulously plated dish in front of him.

Hux looked down, fully prepared to stomach something terrifying, because who knew what the hell Kylo had made.

* * *

“Another good mood? That’s like twice this week,” Carol said from her open door as she heard him whistling in the kitchen.

“You! Alright, we need to talk.” He marched over to her room and confronted her. “What did you tell him?”

She looked up innocently from where she sat at her desk. “What?”

“What was with the dinner?” Hux had an unusually serious expression, even for him. He perched himself carefully on her bed, crossing his legs and fixing her with an unnerving stare.

“I dunno, he wanted to repay you somehow for the last couple weeks, I suggested he make you a nice romantic dinner.”

“What were your exact words?”

“I believe my exact words were, ‘he loves that shit. He loves tradition, he loves formality, just…you know him, he’s like that’. I may have added ‘romance him a bit’ as a second thought.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively. “How did it goooooo?”

“Carol. Why.”

“Because? I didn’t need a reason, he wanted to do something nice for you and I gave him a suggestion. Did it not go well?”

Hux’s face reddened. “You said a nice romantic dinner. Nice. Romantic. Dinner. You want to know what he made, Carol?”

Panic started to creep into her face as she looked at him. “I…what. What did he make?”

“I walk in, there’s candles and wine and some beautiful…thing, appetizer, whatever, on the table. He sits me down, I have no clue what it is, he’s speaking French or something I can’t understand as he’s describing it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life, and I have no clue what I’m eating.”

Carol cringed. “I really didn’t mean that fancy…”

“He moves on to the main meal. I’m sort of panicking, because if any of this has shellfish in it, I’m in trouble, but I don’t have the guts to tell him. He looked so proud of himself, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I just sort of hoped my epipen would give me enough time to get to the hospital if it all went to hell. You want to know what he made?”

Her eyes were huge. “…what?”

“Fucking. Macaroni. And. Cheese.” He placed careful emphasis on each of his words, choked, and started laughing. It started as a suppressed sound as he made his words, then exploded into a hysterical, full-bodied laugh.

She stared at him. Hux sat on her bed, laughing so hard his face was turning red and tears of laughter started to drip down his face. She was silent for a moment as it all sank in, that everything was fine. Then she started laughing as well, and he turned bright red as he gasped for air. He laughed so hard he fell off the bed, and she wished she’d gotten it on film.

When he finally composed himself a couple minutes later, he was wheezing. “It was the best goddamn thing I’ve ever eaten, and I still have no idea what the appetizer…thing was.”

Carol beamed. “I’m glad it worked then! Give me details if you two are officially seeing each other or something.”

He didn’t feel the need to detail how the rest of the evening had gone.

* * *

It’d started off as a kiss, but quickly devolved into a messy make out sprawled on Hux’s bed. His hand, which had started on the back of Hux’s neck, ran upward into his hair. To Hux’s surprise, Kylo sucked in a surprised breath and pulled his hand away, as though burned.

“What’s wrong?”

Kylo held a careful poker face, but it eventually broke. “That’s the scar…?”

“Ah.” Hux sat back on his legs. “Yeah. That’s from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s done is done.”

“You’re not…angry about it?”

“Of course I’m angry about it, but being angry doesn’t do me any good. Besides,” He ran his hand along the skin just below the fresh scar on Kylo’s face. “You’ve got one to match. And it’s worse. So I figure I might as well move on.”

Kylo looked up at him, astonished. It was a good look for him, Hux decided. Kylo surprised, thrown on his back, his hair half-tumbled across the pillow behind him, was easily one of the most inviting things he’d ever seen. After the surprise blinked away, the look in his face was straight up _want_ for an instant that seemed to last for ages before he seemed to realize he was being obvious and carefully hid the expression.

When Hux grinned like he knew exactly what Kylo was thinking, he found himself flipped around with a leg wrapped around his own. They wound up with Kylo straddling his lap, smirking. Hux’s hands caught the back of his neck and he dragged Kylo down, carding his hands into Kylo’s hair and deepening the kiss.

It was impossible to describe the thrill that seemed to run under Hux’s skin, but he felt like he was lit up like a live wire.

In response to being dragged into the kiss, Kylo pushed his arms up above his head and his mouth dropped open. Half a dozen filthy thoughts pertaining to that mouth ran through Hux’s head before he clamped down on them. “Hux…” A noise gathered itself in Kylo’s throat, strangled and wanting as he spoke. “If you could see how you look…”

“Um…? What?”

“I wasn’t gone that long, you weren’t supposed to get _hotter_.” Kylo’s breath hissed out, hot on his neck.

“It’s not that big of a difference.”

“It’s noticeable. A little muscle does your shoulders wonders.” He sat up, leaning back on his hips and very nearly smirking as he saw Hux’s expression twist. “It’s Carol, isn’t it? I have Carol to thank for this?”

“If you could maybe…not talk about her while you’re grinding up on me? That would be preferable?”

Kylo’s hands clamped around his biceps. “She got you on the bench, didn’t she?”

“For the record, I asked her to help, thank you very much. Now shut up.”

“You could make me.”

* * *

“Oh.” The noise was small and surprised, but Hux couldn’t help it. His hands had explored Kylo’s skin, stilling with surprise as he found that Kylo had come prepared. He very nearly laughed. Kylo knew him that well, and thought him an easy enough lay to prepare in advance. It stung a bit, but rather than being unwelcome, it was more of a pleasant surprise.

Kylo cleared his throat. “Look, I’m not sure exactly what you were thinking but I thought things might go a bit smoother if…”

“Rather convinced you were going to get me into bed, weren’t you?”

“I, ah…thought it would be better to be prepared? I was…hopeful. Not exactly confident.” His face went splotchy with embarrassment. “If not…it’s fine. I just thought…”

“Convince me.” It came out more commanding than he intended, but judging by the look on Kylo’s face, it was just fine. More than fine.

“There are condoms in my coat pocket.”

Hux very nearly snorted. “Excellent.”

* * *

Hux looked up, trying to remember to breathe as Kylo’s weight finally settled on his hipbones and thighs, an oddly grounding feeling. There was a part of him that wanted to drag this out, to somehow make it last forever. The other part desperately wanted Kylo to move.

When he finally did, it turned out he was pliable, responding to Hux’s cues like they’d done this a hundred times. He moved in-sync with the hands on his hips, purposefully slowing when the grip tightened and pressed faint bruises in the divots of his hipbones. His hands splayed across Hux’s chest, one slipping a bit from leftover lube.

Kylo leaned forward, his hands rising to Hux’s face as he kissed him hard. Nothing about this was gentle, and a part of Hux feared being exposed like this, as visceral and intense as their fight months ago. It was a different sort of exposure, but the sense of raw vulnerability was back.

The kiss drew his attention upward, and the sight seemed to freeze in his memory like a photograph. Kylo sat astride his hips, his skin every bit as sweat-slicked as Hux’s own, ribs and muscle rippling like fluid underneath. His eyes seemed to flutter open and closed, accompanied by small gasps when his mouth was open and ‘mmm’ when he bit his lips.

It was one hell of a picture, the red flush of his cheeks burning its way down to his chest, his pupils blown wide with arousal each time he managed to open his eyes, his hair tumbling out of the tie he’d pulled it back with.

Hux closed his eyes, desperately trying to maintain control. Thankfully, Kylo stopped moving. “You just hate to break form, don’t you?”

“Is that a problem?”

Kylo chuckled and he very nearly lost it. “Not everything is about keeping perfect control.”

“Excuse me if I disagree.”

“This isn’t.” Kylo looked down at him, a smug smile flitting across his face. “What if I want to watch you fall apart?” He rolled his hips and the noise that left Hux’s mouth was incomprehensible.

“Not…without you.” Hux caught his breath and fought to clarify. “Not without you, you bastard.”

“You’re acting like I’m the uptight one here.” The smug smile grew, suddenly downright devious as he pried Hux’s fingers from his hips and wrapped them about himself. He rolled his hips again, thrusting into Hux’s hands and making a noise that could only be called _obscene_.

He leaned forward, biting at Hux’s collarbones, refusing to still even when Hux, to his everlasting shame, begged. Kylo’s voice was little more than a hoarse whisper when he said, “Just let go.”

Hux nearly lost his goddamn mind.

* * *

Exhaustion and a strange sense of contentedness settled on him when he climbed back into bed, grateful for the human furnace warming his sheets. He curled up next to Kylo, who had dozed off when they’d finally come down from the high.

“Holy…!” Kylo jolted halfway upright, almost nailing him with an elbow. “Motherfucker what the hell…!”

“What?”

“Get your cold feet off of me. Jesus. It’s like you belong in a morgue.”

Ah. Yes. Kylo was still very much Kylo, as unexpectedly pliable as he might have been minutes before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, questions, and critiques always welcome!


	13. Hook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is intended as a Hobbit-style birthday present, but is especially dedicated to betweenheroesandvillains (here and on tumblr), without whom I would have killed this story for good back in March. Thanks so much <3
> 
> Warnings for some casual biphobia :/

The world went on turning, as it always did, but somehow it seemed a little brighter.

Kylo still couldn’t quite understand where Hux had found the wherewithal to forgive him, but he wasn’t going to question it. Instead, he relished the opportunity and hoped it would last.

He didn’t actually need to stay at Carol and Hux’s apartment anymore, his ribs had healed and he’d even gone back to the gym. But Hux hadn’t thrown him out yet.

So he stayed.

* * *

He repaid the debt he felt he owed Hux in small increments, little bits and pieces he managed at odd times when Hux was at class or work or practice. He’d never been good at saying ‘thank you’, so he handled small things around the apartment, things he knew he couldn’t screw up. He’d throw some of Hux’s laundry in with his own and leave it folded on his bed. He’d prep a meal ahead of time and leave it in the fridge for them when he knew he’d be on shift at the garage. He did dishes, got the mail, bought some tomato plants and put them in pots on the balcony, and generally kept the place clean.

Sure, he still payed Lando rent, and he went back to his place some nights when Hux wasn’t around or when Carol was planning to have friends over. Still, it was small repayment for practically living in their apartment.

And spending more nights than not in Hux’s bed, whether Hux was there or not.

That too.

* * *

The gym wasn’t as comfortable as it once had been. He’d been the best of the lot, Lando’s best fighter after Chance had moved on. Retirement didn’t fit him as comfortably as it did Chance, who had been able to walk away, truly walk away, for the sake of his family. Kylo had no such attachments, and although he was done getting in the octagon in an official capacity, he couldn’t help but hop in every once in awhile to help coach Carol.

The dynamic in the gym had changed with the addition of Rey, the slip of a girl who had thrown him but barely made it out of featherweight when she weighed in. She was pleasant enough to other people, but their interactions were tense and brief. He made a grudging peace with her for Carol’s sake, and although Lucky jibed him about her almost daily, he found she was fairly solitary and knew what she was doing. She was quite good, but in his mind, she needed an appropriate coach if she was going to excel in competition.

Still, the few times he brought competitive MMA up, she shut him down, saying she wasn’t interested in competing. When he complained about it to Carol one night in the car on the way home, it was like talking to a brick wall. “Why are you so hell-bent on getting her to compete?”

“She could be _good_ , she threw me. She’s clearly got skills beyond boxing, there’s no reason for…”

Carol’s face went cold, the severe expression she often took on when she was restraining herself. “I think you should leave her be. She’s dealt with a lot of shit in her life, and if she wants to come in and practice just to stay in shape, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But…!”

“Kylo, shut up and leave her be,” she snapped. “Didn’t you give her enough grief when she first came in?”

“That’s unrelated.”

“It’s absolutely related. Just leave her be, she’s fine. She knows what she’s doing, and she works with Lucky sometimes. She doesn’t need another coach, she’s not gearing up to compete, end of story.” She shot him a glare that said the discussion was over.

* * *

Even once he’d made his peace with Rey, going back to the gym was a riot. The group of guys Lando assigned him was a mess, their issues ranging from broken homes to drug problems. Lando seemed to think all of them could be helped, if only they could learn to control their problems, instead of letting their problems control them.

While breaking up his third actual fight in a week, Kylo started to think maybe Lando’s expectations were a bit too high.

After two attempts at separating the kids, he bodily hauled Maison off of Alec, grabbing his arms and pinning them behind his back as he caught him in a hold. “Everyone, back to drills! We’re done sparring for today.” There was a groan from the other boys, and a relieved sigh from Alec as he scrambled up off the mat and made for Carol, who had walked over with ice when she’d seen things go sour.

Maison struggled in his arms, trying to find an angle that would allow him to slip from the hold. “He called me…!”

“I don’t care what he said, you’re doing nothing but drills and yoga with Lucky until you learn to control yourself.”

He groaned and went limp within the hold. “What the hell Coach? Lucky is boring.”

“Lucky could kick your sorry ass if she wanted to, but she’s trying to help you guys learn self-control.” Kylo loosened his hold and let Maison free. The kid grimaced and rolled his shoulder, but was otherwise unharmed. “Believe me, it’s important.”

“How am I supposed to focus on fucking yoga when I’m so fucking pissed off?”

“Language.” Kylo reminded him, his mouth nearly quirking up in a smile at the familiar sentiment that had often been directed at him. “It’s more about burning your anger off in slow, controlled amounts. And yoga is both mental and physical. Now,” Kylo put a hand on his shoulder and steered him over to a bench. Maison sat and slumped, glaring at the floor. “What’s this really about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“At all, or around other people?”

He shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Do me a favor, alright? Go hang by the door, I’m going to grab Lando to stand in for me. We can talk if you want, we don’t have to. We can even just…talk about normal stuff, just to help you clear your head so you can work drills with the group.”

Lando was already walking over, looking mildly amused and concerned simultaneously. Kylo shook his head, giving him the lowdown. “They’re on drills for the rest of the evening. Anton and Jae need to push their footwork, Danny has a weird angle on his cross, he’s eventually going to do some damage if he doesn’t fix it. Corwin and Gavin are both struggling with form, they’re both too focused on looking cool. And Carol’s getting ice on Alec.”

Lando sighed and nodded, waving Kylo off to go deal with Maison. They sat on the parking blocks in the lot outside and talked. At first, it was about movies and tv shows, but eventually he got into his family life. With his mom’s boyfriend moving in, he and his little brother had been avoiding the house, too afraid of him to sleep at home most of the time.

“It’s not bad unless he drinks, but you never know when he’s going to come in drunk.” Maison stared at his shoes. “The rest of the time he’s not too bad.”

“Does he hit you?”

“Nah, he just screams at us all. Most of the time mum’s been drinking too, so she yells back at him.”

They talked awhile longer, about how he felt like shit because there wasn’t anything he could do to stop his brother from getting yelled at. It was pretty clear he felt helpless, as though he wasn’t strong enough to help his brother or mom, the people he cared about.

Kylo made a mental note to add info to his file, to keep an eye out for visible signs of abuse. There wasn’t much they could do without signs of physical or sexual abuse, he’d seen Lando go through that song and dance before with kids from homes that were used to getting verbally abused.

Eventually, the conversation died and Maison looked up at the sky, the sun setting quickly. “You ready to go back in?”

Maison nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think so.”

* * *

Later at home, Kylo dug the pre-made lasagna out of the fridge and put it in the oven as Carol ducked into the bathroom to shower. It wasn’t until they sat at the bar, eating lasagna, that Hux’s absence became palpable. It wasn’t a bad thing, just something they hadn’t noticed up until that point.

Carol, not one to avoid the awkward, got up mid-meal, grabbed a pair of beers from the fridge, and popped the tops. “Where’s Hux?”

“I dunno, he’s your roommate.”

“Yeah, but he’s your boyfriend.” She stopped as he cringed into his food. “Maybe? Sort of? Come on, spill, you still haven’t told me what’s going on. Are you guys official?”

“I…uh…I don’t know.”

She frowned and went quiet, contemplating the last couple bites of lasagna before sighing. “Well, I’m glad you’ve worked something out between you, even if you’re not sure what it is.” They ate the rest of dinner in companionable silence, then cleaned up.

He admitted to himself that 4:15 mornings were slowly getting the better of him as he nearly fell asleep in the shower. The day he was done with six o’clock shifts would be the day he was genuinely happy. He curled up in Hux’s bed, relishing the temporary cool of the sheets, breathing in the smell of laundry detergent and Hux’s skin before settling in for the night.

Perhaps Hux would come home. Perhaps he wouldn’t. For a moment, he was struck by uncertainty. Why wouldn’t Hux come home? The treacherous back of his mind whispered _he’s cheating_ and Kylo shoved the thought away violently, afraid of it and afraid of his own mind. No, of course not. Hux knew what he wanted, and if he wanted Kylo gone, surely he’d tell him. He wouldn’t go to the trouble of cheating, he’d just kick him out.

Kylo stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the past couple weeks. They’d fought two weeks before, a completely pointless argument turned sour in the wake of stress. Kylo struggled to keep control as life changed, as he settled into his new coaching position and the earliest shift at the garage. Hux worked long hours in the lab and was waiting to hear back on a couple of interviews, one in particular. They’d promised a response, and he still hadn’t heard back, leading him to the obvious conclusion that they didn’t want him. They were both on edge, Hux wired at all times and Kylo feeling he was being crushed under the weight of exhaustion.

They’d worked it out, in the end, but only by very nearly crashing and burning. Hux nearly had a nervous breakdown when he accidentally broke a bowl while trying to reheat leftovers for dinner, and despite wanting to do something to help, Kylo had simply stood there, trying to process the way Hux’s hands shook as he picked up the pieces and wiped sauce from where it had splattered on the cabinets. Hux, who was always in control, always so sure of himself and his actions, looked very nearly on the verge of tears when Kylo pulled him up and sat him down at the table. He’d reheated food in silence and refilled the kettle as Hux picked at the dish.

“Do you want to…talk?” The words felt strange in his mouth, but this was…fine. This was fine. He could do this, it was just…turning around what people had done for him when he’d found himself off-kilter. Hux shook his head, leaving him floundering for a moment as he wondered what Mrs. Calrissian would have done?

And that, there, was the answer. That, he knew. “How long’s it been since you ate?”

Hux shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’ve felt sick, I’m not…”

“How long’s it been since you ate a proper meal? Not coffee or something with coffee, and not some sort of granola bar or something.”

“Lunch yesterday? I think?” Hux sighed with defeat.

“When are you getting up in the mornings?”

“Look, you’re not going to parent me or…”

“I care about how you’re doing, at least let me try to help.”

To his surprise, Hux put his face in his hands, propping his elbows on the table. “Fine. Six-ish? Earlier if I’m awake, it’s no use lying in bed.”

“So you’re getting maybe four hours of sleep a night when you stay up til two and study, if even that.”

“Look, I’m fine, I just have to get through the next few weeks.”

“Right now, you’re a nervous wreck.”

Hux shot a vicious glare at him through his fingers, the faint green-purple bags under his eyes deeper in the poor light. “Thanks.”

“What would it take to get you to…I don’t know, at least eat dinner each night and get some rest?”

They’d gone on to spend nearly an hour talking through it, trying to make a passable plan that they could both agree on.

Alone in Hux’s bed, Kylo stared up at the ceiling, half lost in the memory and hoping against hope that Hux wasn’t going to collapse under the pressure. Eventually, he fell asleep.

* * *

Hours later, he was woken by the shifting of the mattress. “Budge up, you’re taking up the whole bed.”

“Hmm,” Kylo shifted over, shivering at the feeling of fresh cold sheets. “What kept you?”

“Daala’s working me to death, but what else is new?”

“You get dinner?”

“Mhm,” Hux touched his shoulder gently in appreciation. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Set your alarm for later?”

“Eight, but I’ve been getting more sleep, I’ll be fine even if I wake up when you do.”

Hux curled against him, sinking into the pocket of warmth Kylo’s body heat had made under the blankets. It was a blurry sort of sensation, but a comforting pattern they’d turned into a routine.

Kylo fell back to sleep.

* * *

His watch buzzed him into wakefulness at 4:15 on the mark, enough time to go for a run, come back and shower, and get to the garage. Despite the pressing need to rise and start the day, Kylo wanted little more than to stay, to watch Hux wake up slowly with the sun, instead of creeping from the room, illuminated by nothing more than the cool glow of the clock.

Six miles. He pulled his sweats on, his shoes, the reflective bands he wore when he ran this early. Six miles was easy.

By mile three, the need to crawl back in bed with Hux was almost painful, and he decided to take a shortcut to shave a mile off the run. By the time he hit the far end of the complex drive, he’d settled on a course of action. He made it back to the apartment and took the sets of stairs two at a time, unlooping the key from his shoelace and trying to slow his breathing as he toed the heels of his shoes off, leaving them at the door and making for the shower.

Anticipation twisted in a knot in his gut, the thought that Hux was still asleep, comfortable and blessedly unaware of the silence that could only be found in the ungodly hours of the morning. Kylo was hard before the water had even warmed up, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly he came.

He scrubbed quickly and blindly grabbed for a towel that might have been his or might have been Hux’s. Once he’d dried off, it was all too easy to slip back into the dark of Hux’s room and slide under the covers.

He let his fingers trace Hux’s shape, from the base of his ribs, down his sides, over his hipbones to the band of his boxers. Hux tensed and shifted under his touch, allowing Kylo slip them out from under him and down his hips.

Mouthing at the inside of Hux’s thighs earned him a soft, sleepy gasp. Hot breath dancing over his cock, still absent of touch, had Hux leaking on his stomach. Kylo ran his hands across the warm span of his abdomen, trying to rouse him as gently as possible. “Hey, wake up, just for a bit. Then you can go back to sleep.”

Hux groaned, finally cracking his eyes open enough for Kylo to see a glassy sliver of them in the light of the clock. “Oh god, you can’t wake me up like this and just _stop._ ”

“You alright with this?”

He sucked in a breath, pushing his hips up against Kylo’s hands. “Mmhm, ‘s great. You’re…?”

He cut off and moaned quietly as Kylo sucked at him lightly. The sound went straight to Kylo’s cock, leaving him half-hard again despite having gotten off in the shower. Hux was usually carefully reserved and quiet, but the soft sounds he made as he woke up were uninhibited.

It didn’t take much to have Hux falling apart. The incessant touching, the way Kylo mouthed at him and finally swallowed him down, it took him to pieces and left him gripping the sheets with white knuckles. Something that might have been a whimper curled in the back of Hux’s throat before he clapped a hand over his mouth and killed it.

“I thought you were—ah!” Hux’s eyes shot open and he gasped as he came, his body tensing like a coiled spring and then relaxing, loose limbed, back into the mattress. He pushed his hips into the weight of Kylo’s hands again until they shifted and released him.

“What about you?” Hux sounded exhausted as he came back to himself, his voice muted and soft around the edges in a way it never was during proper waking hours.

Half-hard, it was a tempting offer, but Kylo looked at the clock glowing 5:35. “I’m fine, go back to sleep.”

The faintly confused but contented smile on Hux’s face as he pulled the blankets back up made the trouble Kylo got in for walking into work five minutes late entirely worth it.

* * *

On break at ten, Kylo went to his locker and checked his phone.

One message, from Hux. _I just wanted to say thank you for this morning._

He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Hux waking back up, rolling over, and grabbing his phone to text like Kylo was the first thing he thought of on waking. _no problem_

A couple minutes passed as Kylo ate a granola bar, and one more text came in before he had to go back out. _Although I really would appreciate it if next time you woke me up so I could thoroughly enjoy it all._

If Kylo wasn’t mistaken, that was almost fondness.

* * *

The day-to-day pattern became the new norm. The early shift wasn’t as rough once he’d gotten used to it, and waking early had its advantages. Work out, work, coach right after the kids got off of school, get home somewhere between six and eight, do whatever needed to be done around the apartment or his place, and crash for the night.

Most nights, Hux was at the lab until midnight or studying in the library even later. Living on near-opposite schedules allowed them both to get a bit of sleep, but Kylo’s chest ached when he left Hux asleep in bed each morning when he went to work. It was almost easier waking up in his own empty bed on the mornings he didn’t sleep at their apartment.

* * *

It was in the middle of a practice that Hux texted, nothing more than a simple _call me!_

By the time Kylo picked it up and looked at it, half an hour later, it seemed too vague and out of character for Hux. He didn’t have time to step out of practice for a call, so he sent back _what’s up? Can’t call, coaching_

Hux’s texts came so fast it seemed like he might implode from excitement on the other end.

_Got offered an entry position with the NSF in DC!_

_Going to give it a couple days to think it over, but this is a dream job, it’s an entry into the fields I’ve specialized in and it’s a huge opportunity to get in on the legislative side_

_But this is it, this is what I’ve been so worked up about_

_They called around 4, was on the phone til 5, had to call my mom and wound up on the phone forever. Sorry to text you late-ish_

Internally, Kylo thanked his lucky stars Hux had texted, as a spike of bitterness and worry jabbed through him. What if this thing, this weird peace they’d come to, what if it was over? What if Hux found a job and moved on and that was it? He pushed the thought aside, stomach sour and twisting with nerves as he typed _Congratulations!!_

_Daala’s going to go out with a couple of us in celebration, guess that’s a thing she does when someone gets a job. It’ll be late, we’ve got testing to finish up since my call took awhile._

Kylo looked down at the phone, momentarily silent. Then, another buzz.

_Want to join us around 11:30? Headed to the Pint, on State_

The thought of going to a bar with the people from Hux’s lab was inherently distasteful. Most of them were working on their PhD’s or post-docs, and those that weren’t were like Hux, brilliant and going for multiple degrees as they somehow pulled near-perfect grades. Did he want to be the idiot in a crowd of brilliant minds? Not particularly. Besides, he had the morning shift again.

_Sorry, I can’t, I’ve got the first shift tomorrow again_

There was a momentary pause in the typing indicator, then another quick message. _It’s alright, I get it. We’ll go out some other time, you and me and Phasma?_

And wasn’t that a more appealing option? Absolutely. Kylo pushed back the vague guilt that told him Hux wanted him to go. Of course, it was bullshit, Hux had invited him as a formality, he’d known he couldn’t go. _Sounds good_ _J_

_See you later at my place?_

A deep breath. _K. If you’re out late, I’ll probably head to bed_

* * *

After practice, Kylo went home and fought the urge to go straight to bed. Everything about him felt worn thin and stretched in different directions. He tried to stay awake, he really did, but he fell asleep on the couch to reruns of CSI.

He woke to a careful hand in his hair and the shift of the couch cushion under him. “Hey, I thought you were headed to bed?”

“Hmm. Tried to stay up for you.” Kylo stretched, joints arguing audibly as a result of how he’d slept on the too-small couch.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

In the morning, there were two images that stuck in his mind. The first was the absolute incandescent look of relief and happiness on Hux’s face as he smiled down at him, flopped on the couch, still in the sweats he’d worn to the gym. The second was Hux’s bag laying on the floor by the door, tipped sideways and forgotten against the wall by the shoe mat. He saw it, only briefly, as Hux pushed him toward his bedroom and bed, with the promise of sleep.

“When do you have to be up?”

“4:15. About 5:15 if I skip running.”

Hux’s hands danced across the waistband of his flannels. The ache in his chest sharpened into the recurring fear that he was going to lose all of this, whatever it was. Instead of leaning into Hux’s advances, he crawled into bed, curling in on himself and blearily hoping it would put Hux off. “It’s late, you’ve been drinking.”

“Look, I’ve had two beers, I’m fine.” Hux sat back on his heels, and Kylo didn’t need to see his face to know he was upset. “Kylo?”

“Yeah?”

“I can tell there’s something bothering you, I’m not completely oblivious. What’s…is it something about this? With…what’s going on with us?” There was an uncertain note in his voice.

“I don’t know.”

“I mean…what do you want from this…thing…we have?” he carefully avoided the word ‘relationship’, and Kylo could hear it.

“It’s…” He sighed. “it’s late, and I don’t know. I feel like I’m going to say something stupid and mess things up, just because I’m tired.”

“Well,” Hux runs his hands down Kylo’s thighs, “whatever this is…you’ve done a lot for me over the past few weeks. Let me take care of _you_ for once? Even if it’s a no-strings-attached sort of thing?”

Despite the reality of the situation, it was a tempting offer. Hux, who was so lit up in the light of a job offer that he was blinded to reality by his own glow, didn’t see the inevitable breakup on the horizon. He would leave after graduation, settle in somewhere close to DC, probably with new friends, a new boyfriend…or, hell, a new girlfriend, Hux didn’t care. Everything in his gut told him it was a terrible idea. And yet…

It was the smile flickering across Hux’s face, coming and going in the light of the singular bedside lamp, that did him in. It was probably the first time Kylo had ever seen him truly elated, and it was astonishingly beautiful. He was mesmerizing and something about his motions seemed ethereal, as though in his enthusiasm Hux had become something superhuman. And despite feeling Hux was somehow beyond him, on another level, Kylo wanted to hold onto him as long as he could.

As he nodded, Hux grinned, peeling his shirt and pants away easily, eventually coming back up to kiss him, slow and smooth. Even then, he didn’t hesitate, leaning down to mouth at him through the boxers, eventually slipping them off over his hips. He climbed from the bed to strip his own clothes, coming back to work his hands across Kylo’s skin, making for each sensitive spot he’d discovered over their time together.

The sound of a bottle of lube didn’t quite surprise him, although Hux sliding into bed next to him to spoon him carefully did, as did Hux’s hand slipping up to the juncture of his thighs, slicking them. “If you’re trying to fuck me, I’m…”

“Not trying to fuck you like that, I swear.” And there was something erotic about profanity slipping from Hux’s lips, a spark that wasn’t there in the daylight. “Press your thighs together for me?” The bits of Hux’s intentions he’d been able to perceive finally jigsawed together in Kylo’s mind to make a single complete picture, and he let out a low breath of relief.

“You alright?”

“Mmhm…” his agreement was lost in the moan that slipped from his lips as Hux’s hand moved from his thighs to cup him for a moment before shifting his hips away to add more lube. The slow exhalation in his ear as Hux slid forward between his legs was almost as good as the hand that reached around to slick him up.

It was so easy to lose himself to the slow, steady strokes of Hux’s hand along his length. The world narrowed down to the two of them, their motions unhurried and almost painfully intimate. He came with a groan over Hux’s hand and his stomach, only moments before Hux tipped over the edge as well, painting his thighs.

When his mind cleared, he registered the rapidly cooling stickiness and the way Hux held him, his grip tight on Kylo’s hip despite the exhaustion that had otherwise made him loose-limbed and mellow. He went to move and clean up, but Hux was up before him, gently pushing his shoulder in a clear ‘stay put’ motion.

He was half asleep when Hux returned with a warm washcloth, and once clean it was easy to tip into the blessed darkness of slumber.

* * *

The thought of an impending breakup ate away at him slowly. There were times he was harder on the guys in the gym than Lando was, there were times he was harder on himself. Whatever happened, this time he refused to be the one to break. Not this time.

It was two days later, after an early practice, that the problem came to a head. He closed up the front of the gym and headed for the lockers, bouncing texts back and forth with Hux as he showered and changed.

_Since I’ve got the offer pending, they want to fly me out to DC for a sort of pre-orientation program, 4 days. My flight leaves at 5:35 from O’Hare tomorrow, so I’m taking off and I’ll crash at home tonight_

Of course, that made perfect sense. Kylo sent a simple _Just give me a heads up when you land, lmk_

A series of texts came in response. _No problem, will do_

_Daala’s given me a couple names to look out for while I’m there, she seems to think I’ve got a good chance of holding out if I can get a foot in the door with the right crowd. She’s called them ‘the movers and the shakers’ but it seems rather dated_

_I’m not ready for this drive, why couldn’t they just fly me out of Indy?_

_Director Organa’s official endorsement of the offer came in the mail today so…_

Kylo stopped and stared at the text.

_Director Organa’s official…_

Blinked. Read it again.

_Director Organa…_

All the pieces clicked into place. He followed his first instinct and whipped his phone across the room into the wall of lockers on the far side.

* * *

In the end, it was a good thing he’d been at the gym when he got the text.

He wrapped his shaking hands, ignoring the way the fabric twisted and folded incorrectly in favor of a fast wrap job. The pure reddish rage that colored his vision left him trembling, and he knew full well he was spiraling out of control again. Drills were the best option, patterns he could repeat over and over and over until the sick twist in his gut gave way to numbness.

The first blow to the heavy bag was like a spark to a fuse _jab-right cross-jab-right cross_ a pattern he fell into with a vengeance.

_Director Organa Director Organa Director Organa Director Organa…_

He switched his rhythm and lost himself to the pattern again _jab-cross-jab-cross-hook-jab-cross-jab-hook…_

_He used me, he used me to get to her, to get the job he wanted in DC. He never gave a shit about me, he used me to get to her. Hux never cared, he used me to get to her. He never cared. He used me to get to her. He used me to get to her. He never fucking cared at all._

_He used me._

The lit fuse hit fuel and he lost track of the drills, simply falling into the cadence he knew and recognized, throwing punches hard enough to bruise bone despite the wraps. He wanted to scream, but the pressure came out in the form of punches that ached all the way up his arms, hammer blows on his joints.

He repeated the sequences he’d used for years, losing himself entirely in the rhythmic impact and spikes of pain, only giving out when exhaustion claimed him what could have been minutes or hours later. His vision gradually cleared and he gasped for breath, trying to stabilize himself again.

He pawed the sweat from his face with the grimy back of his wrap, feeling low but finally too tired to hit anything. Lucky would be pissed if she knew, it wasn’t the appropriate way to deal with emotions, but fuck it. There was too much steam, and all the energy had to go somewhere. The emotional burnout had been what had gotten into boxing, even when he’d been younger. He’d been too angry, too wired. Lando had seen the potential and routed it straight into training, a way to burn it all off without genuinely hurting another person.

Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea. Maybe taking an angry kid and teaching him how to punch properly had been a mistake. He could feel the bruises forming on his hands, the deep ache of bones slammed together and pinched around soft tissue, the swelling that would likely make his hands near-unusable for the next two days.

He sat down on the mat and tried to catch his breath. When it didn’t come back properly, he lay back, looking up at the metal I-beams and struts that made up much of the ceiling. The deep hollowness that had been carved in his chest had grown, taking up his entire body like he was an empty space wrapped up in a skin suit.

“Coach? You alright?”

Kylo turned his head to find Jae, standing near the back door near the office. He was the oldest of the kids in the Fighting Chance program, who should have been a Junior but he’d been held back twice. “What the hell are you doing here this late?” It came out angrier than he meant it to, and he could see the instinctive shift in the kid’s posture.

“I dunno.” Jae shrugged. He was a tall kid, naturally athletic but he held himself as if to seem smaller. “Sometimes Coach Lando is around late, he lets me do extra drills and stuff if he’s doing paperwork or whatever. Says I’m welcome to come in anytime he’s around, if it keeps me off the streets. The light was on in the office so…”

He made a mental note to ask Lando how often Jae came in some other time. It explained quite a bit about how quickly he’d picked things up in practice. “Well. He’s not here.”

“That was…pretty awesome.”

“I don’t feel awesome.” The laugh that bubbled up was close to tears. “Honestly, I feel like shit.”

“But do you...do you feel better than you did?” Jae looked at him earnestly. “Coach Lando’s been telling us to channel our energy into training, so do you…?”

“Boxing is about power and control in different measures. There wasn’t any control in that.” Looking up at the heavy bag, Kylo propped himself up on his elbows and bit back an angry continuation, settling instead for, “You probably shouldn’t have seen that, my form was shit.”

“Maybe, but do you think you could teach me?”

He sat up, shaking his head. “What is there to teach? My technique was awful and sloppy, I was all over the place.”

Jae sat down next to him, looking a little desperate. “But you just burned off a lot of anger without actually hurting anyone.”

That was enough to give Kylo pause. “Technically, yes.”

“I’m not good at that.” And there it was, the raw truth of the problem. So many of the kids in the Fighting Chance program got themselves in trouble for lashing out. “Can you teach me?”

Kylo found himself looking at a younger version of himself, a kid full to the brim with anger for half a dozen reasons, with no real outlet. He took a deep breath. “How about this: if you can stay out of trouble at school, I’ll set up some hours to work with you during Lando’s office hours next week. You stay in line and keep yourself from getting sent to the office for a week, and I’ll work with you. Deal?”

Jae looked down again. “I don’t think I can, my teachers hate me.”

“I think you can.” He looked down at Jae, who looked surprised. “Keep yourself in line for a week. If you get sent to the office, it won’t be an automatic dealbreaker. I’ll find out what happened, both sides of the story, and we’ll go from there. Deal?” he asked again and held out his hand to shake on it.

The kid grinned and shook his hand. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

“I’m here for a bit, I need to cool down. You get warmed up, you can do half an hour, forty-five minutes of drills before I close up.”

* * *

“Where the hell have you been, why didn’t you answer my texts?” Carol said as he walked into the apartment about an hour later, brushing past her toward Hux’s room. “Hux texted and said you stopped answering him, he wants to know what’s up.”

“Phone’s broken. And he already knows, so he can fuck right off.” He flung the door open and started combing the room for his stuff, shoving shirts and sweaters and underwear in his duffel bag as he found them.

“What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“Getting my shit and leaving.” He stooped and grabbed his running shoes from under the bed, coming back up and rounding on her. “Did you know?”

“Did I know _what_? What’s going on?”

“Did you know he was using me?” He kept his voice from cracking, but only just.

_“What?”_

“His job offer, he’s working for _my mom!_ ”

Carol took half a step back, clearly surprised. “I…what? How? I thought…?” Internally, he was faintly relieved that at least Carol hadn’t been out to screw him over as well. He shoved another hoodie in the duffel bag and pushed past her.

She looked “How could he have known, I never…?”

“I doesn’t matter. It just…it doesn’t fucking matter.” The sickening twist in his gut threatened to make him hurl. “You need me, call Lando’s until I get my phone fixed.”

“Yeah, but…are you alright?” she looked to be at a loss, and although he managed to clamp down on the rush of anger that welled up, there was no keeping the bitterness out of his voice.

“Of course I’m not alright, but when the fuck has that mattered to anyone?” he flung the door open and slammed it on the way out for good measure.

What he didn’t expect was to be grabbed by the shoulder, halfway down the stairs. He spun around to find Carol, who had chased after him. “What do you want?”

“I know it might not make a difference to you but…it matters to me.” She didn’t let go of his shoulder, as if she could stop him from leaving. “I get it, you don’t want to talk about it now, but you’d better be at practice tomorrow.”

“I have to coach, of course I’ll be there.”

“If you’re not, I’m grabbing Lucky and we’re going to hunt you down. Promise me. You’ll be there.”

It was such a blunt threat, Kylo snorted. “I…fine. I’ll be there.”

* * *

Somehow, he made it through the next day without giving in to the constant anger that simmered below the surface. He got up, ran, went to work, went to the gym. He talked to Carol, to Lucky, to Lando. Not about Hux, but he talked to them. He worked with the Fighting Chance guys. He went home, dropped into bed, and slept, too emotionally exhausted to do more.

The next day, he woke up and did it all again, but he went and bought a new phone on his lunch break. He let himself let loose in the gym, long after everyone else had left. Everyone but Lando, who sat in the office doing paperwork as he pounded away at the heavy bag again, sheer bloody rage blurring his vision.

When the anger had burned itself out into near-pleasant numbness, he stepped away and let himself sit down on the mat. Exhaustion pushed him back on the floor, and he once again found a sort of solace in the metal beams of the open ceiling, letting his eyes drift closed as his sweaty headphones slowly slipped from his ears.

The light above him dimmed, and he opened his eyes to find Lando standing over him, blocking the light. “So. Lucky told me what happened.”

Kylo sighed. “Not like I would expect anything else.”

“Do me a favor and tell me what’s so bad about your boyfriend working for your mom? Besides the fact that you hardly talk to her.”

That had him sitting up and pissed off again. “First off, she hardly talks to me, it’s a two-way street. Second, he’s not my boyfriend. Third, it’s not the fact that he’s working for her, it’s that he _used me_ to get to her. He never gave a fuck about me.”

“I hope you don’t use that language in front of the kids.”

“They’re teenagers, they say ‘fuck’ more than I do.”

“Still.” Lando nodded. “My point is, you need to talk it through with him.”

“You want me to…you honestly think I can keep my cool long enough to talk to the asshole that _tricked me into believing he gave a shit about me_ just so he could get a job?” He splayed his arms wide on the floor mat, relishing the stretch. "I didn't even know she'd gotten something with the NSF, last I heard she was with the EPA."

Lando didn’t budge. “You need to talk it through.”

“Right now I’d rather kill him than talk to him.”

“Then you need Lucky or Carol there with you. Or both of them, I don’t care. You need to learn to talk problems out, even when you’re pissed off at people.” Lando folded his arms across his chest, his usual stance for reprimanding his kids or athletes.

“Says the man who taught me to punch shit competitively.”

“In retrospect, fighting might not have been the best outlet for you.” Lando moved and sat down in one of the ringside chairs. “I don’t regret having you here or working with you, never will. But I worry about you.”

He almost laughed as he pushed himself back up to a sitting position. “That’s great, but I’m not…”

“Kylo.” He leaned forward, propping an elbow on his knee. “Ben, Kylo, I don’t care what name you go by, you’re part of the family, and you always have been. You have been since you were born as Ben, and that didn’t change when you changed your name and grew up and stopped getting along with your parents. I’m not your dad, never will be, but my family, we look out for each other. Sometimes we’re not good at it, sometimes we’re, quite frankly, pretty bad at it. But in my family, you care about people and you worry about them when you see they’re hurt or struggling, and right now you’re both of those things.”

“I’m just…I’m tired. I’m tired of everything being up in the air, I just want to settle into something I understand.” Kylo propped an arm up on another folding chair and let his head drop onto it.

“Hang on.” Lando grabbed his waterbottle and shoved it in his hands. “Long sip, get some water in you, then you can tell me. What doesn’t make sense?”

Kylo obeyed, pausing and taking a drink as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I’ve never, in the entire time I’ve known him, understood what the hell the thing between us is. Was. Whatever. And now that I know…”

“Maybe it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, come on. What are the odds he’d get his dream job and my mom would be his boss?”

“Well, if you wanted me to bet on it, I’d say it’s a million to one chance.” Lando sat back and sighed. “But you know they say million to one chances crop up nine times out of ten.”

“Bullshit.” Kylo groaned and put his head back down on the chair. “I want to sleep for a week.”

There was a series of gross popping noises as Lando stood up, old joints arguing against their use. “No can do kid. You’ve got work in the morning, you were whining to me about it earlier. Should’ve kicked you out an hour ago, you need a hot shower and sleep. You’re running yourself ragged.”

“I’m behind on commissions as well, I stopped taking them when Rey busted my ribs but...”

“Make it through tomorrow, you can work on the backlog this weekend. I’ll have Chance come in and work with the guys, it’ll do them some good to meet the guy that’s paying for the program.”

“They’re not…”

Lando held up a hand to shush him. “Listen to me. As your coach, former coach, whatever, I’m telling you, you need to take the weekend. As an adult, I’m telling you to take two days, get yourself together, get some sleep and work on the things you need to get done.”

Kylo groaned and put his head back down. “Fine.”

“Hang in there, kid. It’ll get better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lando reads Terry Pratchett. Fight me.
> 
> A word, aka the author temporarily being a bitter bitch: when someone has an idea that’s pretty unique, don’t pretend it's yours. It might not 'technically' be plagiarism, but it’s rude and disheartening, don't do that. KoC is on hiatus, it'll come back but that's the short version of why.
> 
> Comments, questions, concerns, or corrections always welcome! Or come yell at me at versus-a-blank-paper on tumblr


	14. Riposte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath*

“Hello?”

“Hi, am I speaking with Brendol Hux?”

“Uh, yes?”

“My name is Kay Connix, I’m with the National Science Foundation. Do you have a minute to talk?”

His heart skipped around in his chest and his stomach seemed to have left without putting in its two weeks notice. “I…yes, of course. How can I help you?”

“I’d like to extend an offer for the entry-level position you applied for to you. Details would be forthcoming in an email, and you’d have a reasonable amount of time to consider, but first I’d like to know if you’re still available?”

It took all his willpower not to say “I’ll take it” without even knowing the details. Instead, he took a shaky breath to control himself. “I’m in the middle of deliberating, I’d absolutely be interested in taking a look at the offer.” Good. Yes. That sounded right. That way, they wouldn’t know how desperate he was to find a position somewhere.

“Excellent. We have your school email on file, is that still a good way to contact you?”

“Uhm, yes.”

“I’ll go ahead and send the offer your way. If you have any additional questions, feel free to call me back.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“We hope to hear back from you soon, have a good evening!” She hung up, and he stared at his phone.

_Oh._

_Oh holy shit._

His hands shook as he swiped through contacts to call his mom, and his voice barely held steady as he told her the news.

“Congratulations sweetheart. Let me know the details once you’ve got more info?”

“It’s…it’s probably going to be contingent on moving out to DC. Is that…?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then she sighed. “I can hold down the fort here, you know that. I think you should follow your dreams.”

“But what about dad…?”

“Honey, I married him, he’s my responsibility. Til death do us part and all. I’ll be alright, I promise. And if I’m not, I’ve got your aunts in town to help me out. As long as you come home for the holidays, I’m still going to tell you to seriously consider it, once you’ve got the details. Distance be damned, if that’s your dream job, you take it.”

“I’m going to think it over awhile.”

“Good idea. Once you’ve got the details, you ought to consider negotiating as well.”

The call wrapped up smoothly, talking a bit about things at home and the logistics of living on the east coast. She seemed to be all for it, ending the call with, “You know, your father will be proud of you, no matter what you do. He’s proud of you already, I just have to remind him what you’re up to in school.”

“…hey mum?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think there might be a chance you guys could come to Nationals? It’s for club fencing, but it might be the last chance he gets to see me fence and…” _maybe remember what it’s like_ stuck in his throat.

“Give me the date and location and I’ll see what I can do?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

“Take care of yourself, alright? Are you eating enough?”

“I’m alright mum.” He didn’t say Kylo was cooking dinner almost every night, and leaving leftovers when he didn’t cook. Hell, he’d eaten better in the last month than he had since he’d lived at home.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He stared at his phone as it went dead, still trying to wrap his head around it all. Who else did he need to talk to? Half a dozen people? Carol? Kylo? It occurred to him that DC was pretty far away, and whatever it was he had with Kylo was…here.

He took a deep breath and started by texting the two of them, a simple _call me!_

* * *

He’d had half a conversation with Carol and broken the news to Daala, who had rapidly put together plans for the entire lab to go out for drinks as soon as she heard, by the time Kylo answered nearly half an hour later. _what’s up? Can’t call, coaching_

Right, alright, that was alright. His hands nearly shook with anxiety as he typed. _Got offered an entry position with the NSF in DC!_ It didn’t quite get the point across, that they needed to talk and that everything was going to change and oh hell, this was a lot to take in and his fingers were moving faster than his brain. _Going to give it a couple days to think it over, but this is a dream job, it’s an entry into the fields I’ve specialized in and it’s a huge opportunity to get in on the legislative side_

_But this is it, this is what I’ve been so worked up about_

_They called around 4, was on the phone til 5, had to call my mom and wound up on the phone forever. Sorry to text you late-ish_

Finally, an answer came back. _Congratulations!!_

And he was typing again, damnit, his hands were taking this rather faster than he wanted but really, he wanted little more than Kylo’s company right now. He wanted to hug him and say thank you for putting up with the near-crippling anxiety he’d dealt with over the last few weeks and sure he still had some stuff to finish up in the lab but if Kylo would just go out with the group, maybe they could duck out early and go home and…his brain sidetracked for a moment before coming back online. _Daala’s going to go out with a couple of us in celebration, guess that’s a thing she does when someone gets a job. It’ll be late, we’ve got testing to finish up since my call took awhile._

_Want to join us around 11:30? Headed to the Pint, on State_

‘Typing…’ said the text box by the bottom of the screen. _Sorry, I can’t, I’ve got the first shift tomorrow again_

He deflated a bit. Of course, that was right, Kylo was being smart about this. He had work in the morning, he didn’t have time to go out tonight. He tried to recover, sending a message with false cheerfulness. _It’s alright, I get it. We’ll go out some other time, you and me and Carol?_

_Sounds good J_

_See you later at my place?_ Please let Kylo be planning sleep there tonight. Please. The appeal of going out with the lab had died with the thought that Kylo wouldn’t be there, and now he just wanted to go home.

_K. If you’re out late, I’ll probably head to bed_

* * *

Six hours and two drinks later, he keyed into the apartment, pleasantly exhausted and just happy to be home. He’d spent the better part of the two hours at the Pint vaguely involved in conversations but rather lost in the idea of going home and curling up with Kylo. If he had it his way, he’d get him off at least twice in apology for the way he’d behaved the last few weeks.

The overhead kitchen lamp barely extended to the living room area, and the tv was playing 2am reruns of whatever crime drama. Carol was nowhere to be found, and Kylo…

Kylo was a boneless pile on the couch, made soft by the glow from the tv and the half-light from the kitchen. He’d passed out while watching something, and as rough as the pile he was in looked, his face had gone strangely soft with slumber and his hair was a disordered halo.

He sat down gingerly on the edge of the couch, wanting desperately to touch and see if Kylo really was as soft in sleep as he looked, yet afraid to wake him.

And yet…Kylo was too tall to sleep comfortably on the couch, the only logical thing to do would be to wake him and coax him to bed. So he did, gently running one hand through Kylo’s hair until he shifted and started to wake. “Hey, I thought you were headed to bed?”

“Hm. Tried to stay up for you.” Kylo’s voice was deeper baritone than usual, sunk low with sleep. It pinged something Hux had buried in the back of his mind. Even as Hux watched, he stretched, joints popping and cracking as he rolled his shoulders open and straightened his legs. As he relaxed out of the stretch, he blinked up at Hux and smiled, faint but gentle. Kylo looked like a dream, soft and captivating. Hux stared, lost for words. How the _hell_ was this the Kylo he knew…?

Something threatened to melt in Hux’s chest in the moment before Kylo withdrew and became unreadable again. “You didn’t have to do that.” It took some poking and prodding to get Kylo off the couch, but once he was up it was easy enough to steer him toward the bedroom. “When do you have to be up?”

“4:15. About 5:15 if I skip running.” Kylo climbed into bed and curled in on himself, the exact opposite of what Hux expected him to do. He stopped, trying to figure out what Kylo was trying to communicate without words. When it became clear that something simply wasn’t clicking in his head, Kylo sighed. “But it’s late, and you’ve been drinking.”

“Look, I’ve had two beers, I’m fine.” Was that all? It didn’t feel like it. There had to be more to it, so why was Kylo not interested? His gut reaction was that it was outright rejection, but that didn’t quite make sense. “Kylo?”

“Yeah?”

“I can tell there’s something bothering you, I’m not completely oblivious. What’s…is it something about this? With…what’s going on with us?”

“I don’t know.”

“I mean…what do you want from this…thing…we have?” The word ‘relationship’ very nearly made an untimely appearance, and he shied away from it, worried it would scare Kylo off.

“It’s…” he sighed. “it’s late, and I don’t know. I feel like I’m going to say something stupid and mess things up, just because I’m tired.”

“Well,” Hux dragged his hands down Kylo’s thighs before returning them to his hips. “Whatever this is…you’ve done a lot for me over the past few weeks. Let me take care of _you_ for once? Even if it’s a no-strings-attached sort of thing?”

Kylo blinked his eyes open and looked up at him, barely visible in the last dregs of the light in the parking lot that filtered through the blinds. He sighed tiredly and nodded, lifting his hips obediently as Hux made quick work of his shirt and pants.

He was still soft with sleep, and Hux could hardly keep his own thoughts straight. There were so many things he wanted to do, but Kylo was clearly exhausted. He settled on something simple, straightforward and low-effort for Kylo, who could just lay there and buck into his hand.

He dropped low, mouthing at Kylo through his boxers until he let out a deep groan. Standing up, Hux stripped out of his clothes and came back, teasing slowly and opening the lube to warm it before slipping closer to spoon him as he slicked Kylo’s legs.

“If you’re trying to fuck me, I’m…”

“Not trying to fuck you like that, I swear,” he reassured, smoothing his free hand along Kylo’s ribs and down over his hip. “Press your thighs together for me?” The breath that Kylo let out seemed relieved, and Hux poured more lube into his hand, letting it warm before slipping back between his legs to cup him.

“You alright?”

“Mmhm…” The sound that slipped from him was faint and lost, agreement trailing off into distraction as Hux worked him with slow, smooth strokes. He timed the unhurried grind of his hips to move in-sync with his hand as he jerked Kylo off, changing the pace to match the arc of Kylo’s hips.

Hux clung to him, forcing himself to focus on the pace even as Kylo groaned, a noise that resonated in his ribs until it rose and shuddered into a breathy moan as he came. Hux followed him over the edge hardly a moment later.

Through the bleary darkness, Hux admitted to himself that this was something he wanted. He wanted to be able to come home and find Kylo, to be able to crawl into bed and set the sheets on fire or have slow, sweet sex more like this, to have a place like this that they could be themselves without any external nonsense. His chest tightened and he put his forehead on Kylo’s shoulder, tightening his grip on his hip.

Kylo shifted and cleared his throat with a noise of disgust, but Hux pushed his shoulder back to the mattress as he moved to clean up.

He shrugged a blanket around his shoulders, telling himself it was just in case Carol was somewhere out in the apartment. Of course, it wasn’t like that she hadn’t seen, and made fun of, his skinny ass. Whatever.

Kylo was half asleep when Hux returned with a warm washcloth to clean up. He was snoring gently even before Hux crawled back in with him, clinging to him and listening to him breathe until sleep claimed him as well.

* * *

He woke the next morning to an empty bed, not unusual. In fact, the next couple days went by without anything unusual. Classes, lab work, practice. With nationals coming up, he tried as hard as he could to make it to practice consistently, but sometimes life just got in the way. He emailed back and forth, attempting to negotiate for a few more days of vacation, given that he would have to fly or drive forever to visit his parents.

They came back with half of what he asked for, and the second job offer was accompanied by an invitation to come to an orientation-style session in DC, to get a better taste of what he would be doing.

Suddenly, things were moving faster than he was altogether prepared for. He found himself throwing clothes in a suitcase and packing it into the trunk of his car, calling his mom and making arrangements to drive home and take a flight out of O’Hare. As he climbed in the car, he sent Kylo a message. It was last-minute, but everything about this trip was last-minute, there was little he could do to change it. _Since I’ve got the offer pending, they want to fly me out to DC for a sort of pre-orientation program, 4 days. My flight leaves at 5:35 from O’Hare tomorrow, so I’m taking off and I’ll crash at home tonight_

_Just give me a heads up when you land, lmk_

Hux sighed and looked down at the screen over his travel mug. _No problem, will do_

He kept typing, trying to remember everything he needed to before he started driving. _Daala’s given me a couple names to look out for while I’m here, she seems to think I’ve got a good chance of holding out if I can get a foot in the door with the right crowd. She’s called them ‘the movers and the shakers’ but it seems rather dated_

_I’m not ready for this drive, why couldn’t they just fly me out of Indy?_

_Director Organa’s official endorsement of the offer came in the mail today so if I accept, I’m going to have to start making arrangements. Finding where I’m going to live, that sort of stuff._

_We should really talk about that sometime when I get back._ The ‘sent’ box appeared, but there was no response.

He sighed and turned the key in the ignition.

* * *

At home, he talked with his parents over dinner. His dad was in and out of the conversation, at times frustrated and confused, at times completely present. It was difficult, but they made it work.

After dinner, his father was tired and his mother helped him get ready to sleep. Once he’d gone to bed, though, she had quite a bit to say about his negotiation tactics. Although Hux was inclined to continue negotiating, he was afraid to do so without running the risk of outright rejection.

“You should keep pushing them for the vacation you asked for. You want to be sure you’ve got enough time to travel when you come to visit. What’s the health coverage like? What kind of benefits are they offering you? Do you have options to…?”

“Mum, I don’t…I don’t know yet. I’m working on it, I’ll let you know when I’ve got more information.”

She sighed, dissatisfied, and stood up, taking her empty wine glass with her. “I know. You can handle things yourself, I just worry about you.”

“It’ll be alright. I’m still figuring things out, but it’ll be alright.” He rose as well, holding a hand out for her glass.

She gave him a dry smile. “Are you trying to take my glass or offering a refill?”

“Whatever you like, mum.”

She sighed again and shook her head. “My heart says another glass would help calm me down, my head says not to be stupid.”

“Half a glass? A happy medium?” He offered. She nodded, and when he came back from the kitchen she’d taken her spot back in her favorite chair. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’ll be alright.” He handed her the glass and sat on the cushion by her feet. “What about you?”

She took a sip of wine and looked at him, and for the first time he was struck by the sense that the perpetually saint-like woman that had raised him was…human. She was painfully human, and in that moment she looked terribly sad. The look in her eyes passed in a moment and she forced a smile. “I’ll be alright. I’m just…I’m very tired, sweetheart.”

“If we need to start considering in-home care…”

She shook her head. “Not yet. We may eventually, but not yet. I’m able to work from home most of the time, so I’ve got things under control.”

“If there’s anything you want me to do…”

“I’ve got it all under control, _passerotto_. I want you to go follow your dream and maybe find someone that makes you happy.”

He looked at her carefully, feeling oddly out of place in light of one of her old terms of endearment. “Well…I’m working on it.”

“Good. Get the job first and then settle in. Hopefully you’ll…” She looked at him with an odd expression. It must have showed on his face. “Alright, what aren’t you telling me?” She stared a moment longer and came to the conclusion herself. “There’s already someone, isn’t there?”

“I’m not…I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well, I hope whoever it is, they’re better to you than the last asshole.” She muttered a couple choice phrases under her breath and took another sip of wine, giving him a pointed look.

“I…Uh. I mean…we’ll have to wait…and see how things…uhm. Play out.” He could feel his cheeks burning, the telltale sign of a flushed face. Shit. She’d see through this in an instant.

And of course she did. “Are they horrible to you?”

“I mean. To a certain extent, I deserved it.”

“Nobody deserves to be treated badly. You should know that after last time.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t either.” His mouth was running and goddamnit, there was no hiding anything from her. “And ‘last time’ was the last time he was an ass to me. So. You already know that it all went to hell at that point.”

“You’re seeing him again?” Her eyes widened. Or it would have been comical, if it didn’t sting so much. “Why? Why would you go back to someone who…?” She made a vague motion at his face, where the scar had long since faded into a small white line that was barely visible. She looked as though she might cry. “He hit you.”

“We’re…figuring it out. We were both pretty shitty to each other. I’m not saying it’s right but…” he struggled for words, “…it’s just how it is.”

She frowned. “I didn’t raise an asshole.”

“No, but somewhere between high school and now I managed to turn into one. Sort of.”

“Well then, you better get your shit together. And if you’re still together for the holidays, I better meet him then. If he doesn’t impress me, we’re going to be having words.”

The rest of the evening was quiet. He searched for info on what to check out in the Capitol if he had spare time as his mother made her way through another glass of wine, running her free hand through his hair as if to comfort him. When she’d finished her wine, she sighed and stood up. “I’m off to bed. You should try to get some sleep, your aunt will be here at four to pick you up.”

“I’ve got a few more things I want to find, then I will.”

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

The next few days flew by. His aunt dropped him off at O’Hare, the flight seemed to melt away, he caught a ride to his hotel room, changed into proper business clothes, and was whisked away into the world of Washington. It was almost surreal, to finally be there, and he tried to hide his rising excitement behind a front of professionalism.

His immediate supervisor was a tall woman by the name of Iris Hsu, who showed him around, introduced him to the team, and scheduled him half a day of orientation-style meetings before they sat down over lunch and discussed the offer. “We think you’d be a good fit for our team, so while I…understand if you take another offer, we really do hope you’ll consider ours.”

“It’s certainly on the table.” Hux was painfully careful not to show his hand.

* * *

The next day was similar, although he had the afternoon free to pick up a couple tours. As he was headed out of the office, Iris grabbed him with a bit of a grin. “Want to stick around a couple minutes and meet Director Organa? She’ll be out of a meeting with the Network for Earthquake Engineering team in a few, I could introduce you quickly.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Everything but bribery, huh?”

“People like her, she’s personable. If she helps sway your decision, I won’t complain.”

As a meeting finished and people left the conference room, Iris got the attention of an older woman as she went to leave. “Director, I’d like to introduce Brendol Hux to you. He’s currently considering our offer for the new strategic environmental information aide position.”

Director Organa’s eyebrows rose and Hux had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. She wasn’t very tall, but something about her was imposing. “Well then, nice to meet you. I’ve got about…” she glanced at her watch, “five minutes to spare. What brings you to us?”

He gave her his best canned elevator speech, sketching out his career goals as quickly as he could.

She smiled. “It sounds like you’ll be gunning for my job eventually.”

“Oh no, of course not ma’am. But I would love to work my way up to be an environmental policymaking consultant.”

“Hm. Well, if you join us I’ll be sure to keep an eye out.”

* * *

He spent the rest of the day touring, arriving back at the hotel in time to get some sleep before the next morning’s red-eye. It struck him as odd that he still hadn’t heard back from Kylo, but his moods were mercurial and although it was odd, it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary.

In Chicago, he picked his car up from his parents’ house and started on the four hour drive back down to school. Construction on 65 was horrendous, adding almost another hour, and with the time change, he found himself finally home again at nearly 10.

Carol was nowhere to be found and the apartment was blessedly quiet. There were things he needed to do for the lab and for classes but the moment he hit the pillow, he was out.

* * *

In the morning, he woke and found himself staring at the ceiling. A glance at the clock told him he had plenty of time to get ready for the day and for a moment he was tempted to go back to sleep. Instead, he schlepped himself out of bed and to the kitchen, dragging terribly until he was well into his second cup of coffee. The buttered toast he ate left something to be desired, and he was scrolling through the news on his tablet when the front door opened.

He turned to say hello and found Carol staring at him, her expression absolutely furious. “What’s up?”

“You played him like that and you have the gall to ask me what’s up?” She looked like she might swing her gym bag at him. “What the hell, Hux? I thought you were a better person than that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Kylo, what the hell is wrong with you?”

He held up his hands, one of them still holding a piece of toast. “Back up, start from the beginning. What are you talking about?”

Carol squinted at him, trying to square him away. “You honestly have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“I might if you’d tell me, but I don’t think I’ve done anything particularly shitty to him…?”

“His mom?”

“What about his mom?”

“You used him to get to her.”

“I don’t even know his mom…?”

Carol stopped and stared. “You have no idea who she is.”

“No? Should I?”

“The director of the NSF?”

His jaw dropped. “Director Organa?! Are you kidding me?”

“Dead serious.”

“And he thinks…” Hux thought for a second and cringed. “He thinks I used him to get to her?”

Carol leaned against the counter and threw back half her Nalgene before she looked at him again. “Looks like you’ve got some ‘splainin to do, Lucy.”

“What happened? He hasn’t texted me since I left, he just stopped answering and I thought it was just one of his…”

“He came, got all his shit, and left. That’s what happened. And he’s pissed off.”

“Oh.”

“You need to talk to him.”

* * *

_Carol told me what happened, we need to talk._

* * *

_I had no idea the director was your mom_

* * *

_I can see that you’ve opened my messages, you don’t have your receipts turned off. Talk to me already_

* * *

_Kylo. Stop this shit already. I didn’t know and that being said, I didn’t do anything wrong. We can’t straighten this out if you don’t talk to me._

* * *

_Please call me_

* * *

Hux waited as the phone rang out, and he was directed to Kylo’s voicemail. Little good that would do, since he never listened to it.

He hung up.

* * *

_I’m not willing to let this go without at least talking about it_

* * *

_I’m sorry. Is that what you want? An apology when I didn’t know I’d done anything wrong? If Carol hadn’t told me, I still wouldn’t know._

* * *

_I’m serious, please call me. I’ll stop bothering you if we at least talk through things._

* * *

Hux’s phone buzzed and he halfheartedly glanced down at it.

_Carol and Lucky have just informed me that we’re meeting up to talk things out whether I like it or not_

A wave of relief crashed down on him and he slumped in his chair. His phone buzzed again.

_Tomorrow. 6:30 at Lando’s place._

* * *

Lando answered the door when he knocked. He gave Hux a wry once-over, then pointed toward the garage. “They’re all out there.”

“Thanks Mr. Calrissian.”

“Oh please, nobody’s called me that since I coached Chance’s peewee football team.” He waved him through, then paused. “Hey, kid, listen…Kylo’s hurting. I have the gut feeling it’s all just a massive misunderstanding, but try not to be a dick about it.”

“Not trying to, sir.”

“Ehh, don’t ‘sir’ me. Just do me a favor and try to talk it out like adults.”

* * *

Lucky opened the door and let him in, leading him to the kitchen where Carol and Kylo sat in silence.

The kitchen was deathly silent. Carol looked around at the other three, then sighed. “I’ll get us some drinks, yeah?” No reply came, so she busied herself digging beers out of a cooler. She seemed to know her way around Kylo’s kitchen, and before long, she put drinks on the island, fairly accurate in what each person would want.

“So. How’s this going to go?” Hux finally asked.

She took her own drink and looked at Kylo and Hux. “Lucky and I are going to go sit on the walkout. You two are going to talk through this. Neither of you are going to physically hurt the other. You are both going to try not to emotionally hurt the other. Whatever resolution you come to, that’s your business, but I still have to put up with the both of you and I refuse to be a pawn stuck in the middle. Understood?”

Kylo grumbled agreement and Hux nodded. The other two looked at each other, then at them, then made their exit. Kylo watched them go, then got up, went to the main room, and sat heavily on the couch. He stared at Hux, stopping twice to sip his beer.

The silence itched at Hux’s skin. He finally broke it, saying, “Do you want me to start?”

“Go on, let’s hear it then.”

“I’m not sure what else to tell you, I didn’t know, as I said, I found out from Carol…”

“How the fuck did you wind up there in the first place?” he snapped, “Because it sure as fuck feels like you used me to get to her.”

“I had no idea who your mom was, much less where she worked.” Kylo’s expression was rigid and pained, and Hux could see he it took effort to keep himself in check. Kylo was _trying_ and a small bit of hope dared to spring in his chest. “At least hear me out, or ask the questions you want, or something. We can’t leave it like this.”

Kylo took a deep breath. “Fine…start from the beginning. Where did you hear about the job?”

“A friend, his name’s Poe Dameron, we’d talked about career stuff at the first tournament this year and he knew what I was looking for. He sent me the job app and I…”

Kylo’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know Poe?”

“…fencing…? Wait, do _you_ know him?”

Kylo was clearly putting something together in his head, linking things together and answering his own questions. “I…yes. Alright, this…this explains a lot, actually.”

“Poe is one of the fencers from State, an old friend of Zare’s. How do _you_ know Poe?”

“The Damerons were friends of my parents, we were friends as kids. I’d actually lost track of him.” Kylo seemed to settle a bit as some of the tension eased. “So. You heard about it from him. Is that all?”

Hux felt a bit helpless. “I applied, had interviews, and they sent me an offer.”

“Have you…” Kylo swallowed, “Have you met her?”

“Once, briefly. Four days ago, she was walking out of a meeting and Iris, the one who would be my supervisor if I accept the position, introduced me. I had no idea who she was, she was just Director Organa to me.”

There was a terrifying moment where Kylo stared at him, then slumped, nodding. “Alright. This…isn’t at all how I wanted things to go, but I’m not really surprised. You’re right, we’ll figure this out, we just have to…talk. Which we’re both bad at.”

It didn’t make sense to Hux. If Kylo believed him, what was the problem? What was in the way, why didn’t this simply fix things? What else was there to talk about, why didn’t he…? Things snapped into place in Hux’s mind and he stopped dead, as if doused with cold water.

Kylo felt like he couldn’t trust him.

That was it. He’d taught himself to trust Kylo in the aftermath of that first incident. He was an idiot, he’d been told so time and time again, and yet he’d done it. But Kylo didn’t trust him, and if this continued, he never would.

Hux went for broke. “I’ll walk away from it, if that’s what it takes to make you believe me. I will. It’s just…” He hated himself and his failure to find anything better, but there was the glaring truth. “It’s the only offer I’ve gotten so far. It’s pretty much a dream job, but even that’s a moot point because it’s the only offer I’ve gotten.” He took a deep breath. “I have to get something by the end of the semester, because that’s when the student loans I’ve got will start to come due. So I have to find something before then.”

Kylo’s expression changed, although Hux couldn’t read it. “Aren’t your parents helping you pay your way through school?”

He snorted. “I’ve mostly paved my own way, between scholarships and loans and part time jobs before I started working in the lab for pay. With all my dad’s medical piling up, even with insurance, my parents haven’t been able to help me the last few years.”

“Oh.” Kylo’s voice went quiet. “Why didn’t you tell me when I threw that in your face last year?” Hux shrugged. “And you’d…walk away from the only offer you’ve got…?”

Hux felt like he was collapsing internally, as though the bones holding him up were finally done, disintegrating under the weight of the overlying flesh. “If that’s what it takes to make you believe me. As I said, I had no idea your mom was a part of the NSF, much less my boss’s boss.”

The silence stretched. Kylo spoke first. “This thing between us really means that much to you?”

He hesitated and then the words were pouring out and there was no way to stop them. “If we can somehow make it work, I want it to last, and I know distance isn’t ideal for that but if there’s maybe some way we can move past this then maybe we can figure out how to make this all…”

“I believe you.”

Hux stopped dead. “You…what?”

“If you didn’t know, you didn’t know. I made an assumption when I found out, and that was…wrong of me.” It sounded like it pained him to admit it. “I’m not…thrilled about you technically working for my mom, but it sounds like it’s a good position for you. And you don’t have a lot of other options. I…get it.”

They stared each other down, facing off and trying to determine the other’s intentions. “You’re serious.”

“I’m trying to take a piece of advice from Lando. Talk stuff out instead of punching shit.” Kylo cracked half a smile. “It’s going better than I expected.”

Hux’s mind seemed to be wrapped in cotton, like looking at everything from a distance. He took a couple steps and sat down on the couch next to Kylo, looking down at the floor and trying to get his thoughts in line. “You think I should take the job.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“What about…” his voice threatened to crack, “you? We still don’t even know what this is between us.”

“That, I’m not sure. It’s…a relationship. Of some sort.” Kylo looked uncomfortable. “I’ve never been good at making relationships work.”

“Do _you_ want to make it work?”

“Yeah.” Kylo’s voice was soft. “Yeah, I do.”

They sat in the silence for a couple minutes. Hux’s mind was spinning with it all. Kylo wanted him to take the job. Kylo wanted to try to make this work. Kylo had called it a _relationship_.

And that was _immensely_ satisfying.

“So…I guess we need to talk about where we go from here.”

“Well!” Kylo said with false cheerfulness. “If you take the job, you’re moving out to DC.”

“Yeah.” Hux shuttered his expression carefully, but the words were bitter in his mouth. “So…we’re looking at a long distance relationship.”

“I mean…is that what you want? Or would you rather just end whatever this is?” Kylo looked pained.

“I’m…I don’t want to. But I also don’t know if…if you’d be willing to try the whole ‘long distance relationship’ thing.” There was silence as Kylo stared down at the table. Hux felt as though his heart was in his throat, like he was waiting on judge, jury, and executioner.

“I think I need more time to think about it. Like…a couple weeks.” He took a deep breath, clearly trying to make the best of a shitty situation.

“It’s not exactly an easy sort of decision.”

Kylo snorted. “You could say that.” He finished his drink and stared Hux down across the room. In the light of the bare lamp, his eyes looked completely black and it was hard to read his expression. His voice grew quiet. “Although in the meantime, if you’re not opposed, could we just…pretend like we’ve got a plan to stay together?”

“So…what do you want to call this?”

Kylo looked lost. “Really really good friends with benefits?”

A sort of helpless feeling swelled in his chest and burst like a bubble and Hux laughed. “How about a…potentially-temporary-official-relationship? Something like that?”

“Sounds like you’re bullshitting.”

“That’s 90% of what I’ve done the entire time I’ve known you. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Kylo grinned, a hopeful sort of look that suited him. “Same here. I think…I’d like that.”

Hux lifted the last of his beer in a half-toast. “Well then. We’ve got the rest of the night to ourselves, and however long until you make a decision. We should make the most of it.”

“I fully intend to keep you here as long as I can and spend as much time as humanly possible getting completely fucked.”

Hux choked on his drink for a second before forcing himself to swallow and fix his face. “In the literal sense?”

“Why not?”

“And you think _I_ favor the blunt.”

* * *

Lucky and Carol took some convincing.

Carol gaped at them. “You seriously expect me to believe you just…made up. Just like that.”

“It’s not quite that simple, but something like that.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Not at all,” Kylo said.

She turned to Lucky. “What about you? Do you believe this?”

“I’m inclined to believe whatever they tell me, even if I’m a bit skeptical.” She shrugged and threw back the rest of her beer. “Which, to me, says it’s time for us to get out of here.”

Carol spun on the both of them as Lucky steered her away. “All you had to do was talk it out??”

“Poor communication skills, come on Carol, you know they’re both terrible.”

“You broke up because you couldn’t sit down and _talk to each other?!”_

They could hear Lucky laughing down the stairs. Once they’d left, Kylo dragged him up off the couch.

They barely made it to the bedroom before the urge to kiss Kylo was too much, and Hux took advantage of the moment. It was short and sweet but that empty pit of _want_ had opened up in his chest again and all he could think was to get Kylo out of those clothes as quickly as possible. He paused to rip his shoes of and found himself steered back toward the wall by Kylo’s hand on his chest.

There was a vaguely fist-sized hole in the drywall by his shoulder, where the sheetrock had been broken in but not completely shattered away. It occurred to Hux that it was approximately the size of a fist.

Kylo caught him staring at it. “It’s…uhm…it’s been there for years. I thought I’d try to repair it, the bookcase was pushed in front last time you were here…”

“That’s…that’s fine.” He took a breath, trying to think straight. “I trust you.”

“Do you really?” Kylo looked almost fond.

“Mostly.”

A pleased smile split his face and he leaned in for a soft, slow kiss. When Hux caught his lower lip with his teeth, trying to spur him into action, Kylo hummed pleasantly and pressed his shoulders back against the wall, lightening the kiss further.

Hux groaned with exasperation. ”This isn’t…this isn’t breakup sex, not yet. Don’t you dare treat it like it is.”

Kylo blinked and stilled. “And?” There was a moment before his face split in a half-feral grin before he dropped his mouth back to the curve of Hux’s throat, the soft kiss turning into a bite that drew something that was definitely not a moan from Hux. “Tell me what you want, then.”

“Goddamn it, _move_!” he snapped

“Only if you promise you’ll tell me if I’m being too aggressive.”

The thought sent a thrill up his spine and his cock jumped with interest. For all his insecurities, Kylo was powerful, and if it came down to a fight there was no question who would win.

“Deal.”

Kylo wasted no time, shoving him up against the wall and sucking at his neck. Hux swore he saw stars.

* * *

He woke in Kylo’s bed that evening, pleasantly sore but feeling as though the tension of the past few days had loosened. He twisted and curled toward Kylo, relishing the way his muscles argued and the pleasant ache in his jaw.

He climbed up and pulled boxers about his hips as he made for the bathroom. The mirror and fluorescent light weren’t kind to him, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth anyway. His knees were ruddy with rugburn and faint fingerprint bruises spread across what he could see of his hips. He still bruised like a peach, but the tone of his skin had grown healthier since the holidays. He inspected himself in the mirror and was half-surprised to find what appeared to be a half a bite-mark on one shoulder.

He fingered the scar hidden under his hair. The memory still made his stomach turn, in respect to both his own actions and Kylo’s.

The bruises that dappled his skin in the mirror felt like a very different kind of hurt, the sort he relished in and wanted.

* * *

With two months of school remaining, they took things day by day. As much as it seemed a cloud ought to hang over his head with Kylo’s impending decision, Hux felt that things were looking up again. Whatever happened would happen, and it was down to Kylo’s choice.

Senioritis kicked in as Hux’s classes eased up. Work in the lab remained at fairly constant levels, but once he’d sent his acceptance in to the NSF, classes almost didn’t matter. He was pulling near-perfect grades anyway, and most of the classes he’d saved for his final semester were fairly easy anyway.

Things with Kylo fell into place, and they slid back into the same easy companionship they’d shared for a time. It was give and take in small degrees, and they held it in balance with ease so long as they communicated. Some days, that was the trouble, but something like trust slowly started to grow between them.

Not entirely of his will, Hux started spending more time at practice. Zare implemented a couple of ‘optional’ practices each week, in preparation for Nationals. In theory, Hux could have skipped them, but he still wasn’t happy with his progress, and he’d be damned if he went to Nationals at anything less than his best.

* * *

A month and a half melted away with ease. It felt almost surreal packing his gear and saying goodbye to Carol on his way out the door.

“You’ll be back Monday, right? It’s a two-day thing?”

“Yeah, CFCs are in Knoxville this year.”

“Good luck!”

* * *

The van ride was semi-hellish, but he didn’t really expect much better from a vehicle full of college kids.

Really, he decided as he clamped his noise blocking headphones over his ears, he felt too old for this shit.

* * *

“Get up,” Zare said the instant before he chucked a pillow at Hux, who grumbled and dragged himself from bed. “Breakfast downstairs, we have to be in the vans in half an hour. You going to be ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m moving. Is Beck up?” He sat up to look at the lump on the couch.

Zare grinned. “He’s next.”

As he packed up his stuff, Hux checked his phone. One message, from Kylo: _go stab a bitch, kick some ass_

He couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

Forty five minutes later, they were settling into a space designated for the team, dropping bags and digging gear out for mask checks. Hux grabbed his gear as well as Zare and Beck’s and went to stand in line, listening to music in his headphones as he waited. Three checks and three stamps later, he went back to drop gear and start properly warming up.

Music drowned out the rest of the sounds in the gym and he did some laps to warm up, timing each step to a beat and running. He broke from that to do footwork, stretching into the first few lunges of the day slowly, at least until he felt ready to go. Faster footwork came easy, and once his heart rate ticked up and his body actually moved as it was supposed to, he settled by an open strip and stretched until a tap on his shoulder startled him out of the zone.

Zare stood over him, making a motion to remove the headphones. “Hey, we’re going to get suited up and do a bit more footwork, then drills. You good?”

“As good as I’m going to get, I think.”

* * *

Hux waited as pools were called, anticipation mounting much faster than he wanted it to. It’d been ages since he’d gone through an individual tournament, but he could do this, it was familiar enough. Nerves fired anew as he was his parents arrive, waving to him as they found spots on the bleachers so they wouldn’t have to stand the entire time.

He, Zare, and Beck had been placed in different pools, so he could simply focus on himself. They were running epee first, then sabre, then foil, so at least he would have the afternoon to recharge for the team tournament the next day.

* * *

He stared down the strip at his first opponent, sizing him up. Taller than him, right handed, somewhat bulky. He finished clipping in as the director checked weights and shims on Hux’s blade, then had his blade tested as well. They tested with a metallic clang of bell guards, then positioned themselves at their respective en garde lines.

The director looked between the both of them, set the score machine to three minutes, and held his hands up. “En garde! Prêts? Allez!"

* * *

Pools seemed to blend together although Hux tried to take it bout by bout. It seemed to be over too quickly, and then all they could do was wait for results.

As they waited for the rankings to come out after pools, the guys took the opportunity to hydrate and talk to the guys from State.

All in all, Hux didn’t feel too shabby about pools. He’d gone 5-1 and despite knowing that in his prime he probably could have gone 6-0, it was good enough. His parents had shown up, he’d waved to them across the gym in between bouts. His father seemed happy enough, still familiar with tournament structure and the setting even if he couldn’t always remember where they were or that it was Nationals.

However it all turned out, it was enough. He felt…content, as strange as it was to think it.

When the results from pools and initial seeding were posted, Zare joined the cluster of fencers trying to check the printed sheets posted on the wall. Zare looked through the list and made his way back out of the crowd, grinning. “Hux, you’re seeded 7th, Beck, you’re 32nd. “

Beck seemed pleased. “How about you?”

“Second.”

“You think you can pull off an upset?”

Beck shook his head and brushed the question off. “I have to maintain that seed first. We’ll see.”

* * *

In the round of 128, Hux had a bye, a blessing and a curse. He didn’t have to spend time on a bout with someone that had ranked significantly lower than him in pools, but it gave his muscles too long to cool down and cramp up. The round of 64 gave him a chance to re-warmup, an easy bout against a right-handed fencer that he suspected was new, given the mistakes in his footwork. Despite his range, as Hux edged toward 15 points in the first period, his opponent got reckless and nailed him with his bell. Hux shook it off and decided it was time to stop playing around. He had the reach and the experience, and the final score was 15-4, barely stretching into the second period.

The round of 32 was far too close for comfort. His opponent was a tall, lean competitor from U Chicago, who clearly hadn’t done very well in pools and was far better than his seeding would suggest. He was fast, and Hux found himself giving up a couple points as he tried to hit him with a toe touch. In the end, it was too close for comfort, 15-13 and running into the third period.

Before his round of 16, he had a bit more down time than his required 10 minute break period. As he sipped water,

“Hey, Hux!”

He jolted out of his train of thought and nearly spilled water down himself. He spun, ready to yell at whoever it was…

And found Carol, Kylo close behind her.

He gaped for a moment before he managed to put his thoughts back in line. “What are you guys doing here?!”

She bounced on her toes in excitement, and Kylo’s grin split wide. “We figured we might as well.”

“You drove all the way out here to watch me?”

A director behind him called out, “Strip four! Hux and Malik.”

“We’ll talk later, go!”

Seeing them was like a couple shots of espresso. He threw himself into the next DE with fresh enthusiasm, absolutely trashing them 15-6.

The round of 8 was uncomfortably close, his opponent a short righty that went for a dig and nailed him under the bell. After the 15-11 bout, the pulled his glove off only to find his hand was already bruising a deep, ugly red.

Zare had a close round of 8, but he pulled through. Hux watched as he iced his hand, trying to keep the swelling down. The captain grinned and came to sit down in a chair next to him “I only caught the first half of your bout, what happened?”

“Won, got nailed by a dig though.” He pulled the ice pack back to show Zare the result and he whistled.

“That looks rough. You going to be ready for the semifinals?”

“I didn’t make it this far just to give up, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Hell, you better not.”

“Strip two, Leonis and Hux in five!” a director yelled.

Hux turned to him. “Don’t you dare go easy on me.”

“Nah, but no hard feelings however it turns out. We’re both going home with a placement.”

* * *

“En garde! Prêts? Allez!"

Hux breathed, trying to focus while letting his adrenaline give him an edge. He fought every instinct as Zare hit him with a neat bind and took the first point. He took the second point as well, after they were nearly called for inactivity.

Through the mask, he could see Zare’s face. Not well, but just enough to spot his tells every once in awhile. He looked down, not obviously, and Hux’s gut reaction was that he was going for a low touch. He retreated just in time to avoid the point, coming back to nail Zare in the two.

The first period ended 4-3 to Zare, and they took a one minute break before starting back up. The second period was every bit as focused, but they’d done this hundreds of times in practice. Neither of them could get a point on each other, despite getting into it. Hux couldn’t get past his defenses and found himself getting lights when Zare strongarmed him enough to drive his point into the floor off the strip.

Hux finally broke the dry spell with a circle eight to Zare’s hip, bringing it even at 4-4 with a minute left in the second period. Zare took advantage of his momentary confidence and got him with a mask hit, and Hux returned the favor with a toe touch to close out the period.

As Hux took a sip of water on the break, it occurred to him that if he’d been watching his own bout, he might have laughed. They were so very closely matched, they went point for point given every opportunity.

The third period seemed to be the turning point. They both fenced fast and a bit looser, giving and taking two sets of simultaneous points and drawing even at the end at 9-9. The director called time and randomized the priority light, which settled on Hux. They reset for sudden death and Hux took a deep breath. Zare would have to score, he’d have to be aggressive. With so little time and Hux’s priority, he wouldn’t have a choice.

The director started them and Zare moved more slowly than Hux had expected, coming in to take cautious angles around his bell as if trying to feel him out. Something about it didn’t feel right, there was something…

In a motion so quick Hux barely managed to catch it, Zare launched an incredibly fast fleche at him, nailing him in the open shoulder.

Annoyance surged up for a moment before Hux squashed it, saluting and pulling his mask off to shake hands. Zare smiled. “Congratulations, that was the best bout I’ve fenced all day.”

“So close and yet so far,” he shot Zare a matching grin.

“Hey, you guaranteed yourself a placement, not too shabby for a guy that took years off from the sport.”

* * *

Hux kept that in mind as he fenced off for third place against an opponent that scored an irritating number of simultaneous points. He won 11-9 by spearing the guy in the hand when he went for a toe touch, and it was an immensely satisfying way to end the individual tournament.

After he’d finished, Hux went to go hunt his friends down. When he found them, Carol looked absolutely smug, but she held her tongue. Kylo was rather more engaged. “Alright, so can you explain what happened in that last fight to me?”

“My bout or Zare’s?”

“Yours. I was following for awhile but I got a bit lost on the last couple points.”

“So when he took my blade, I had to back down in order to avoid another double touch, and I…” he explained for a couple minutes before Kylo interrupted.

“Hey, Hux?”

“Mmhm?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

That’s all the warning he got before Kylo caught him around the waist and pulled him close.

Half a dozen thoughts flooded Hux’s mind. _I’m sweaty and I smell disgusting and I haven’t even had a chance to shower and there are people here and my parents are here and Carol is here and Kylo doesn’t really go for anything like this in public and…he’s kissing me. In public. Oh._

Carol gave them a moment, then gave a loud wolf whistle. When Kylo finally released him, people were staring, there was a smattering of applause, and Hux knew his face was on fire.

“Oh.” Hux‘s heart pounded in his ears and he tried to quell the urge to hide his burning face. “I’m-I’m sorry, I’m absolutely disgusting. I’ll run and shower so…”

“You’re fine! I’ve seen worse, way worse,” Kylo said. The smile that split his face was genuine. “Besides, your ass looks great in those pants.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying.” Kylo’s eyes focused on something over his shoulder and his expression changed to confusion.

“Brin!” his mother’s voice sounded from behind him. Hux spun to find her making her way through the crowd, pulling his father along behind her. There was only a moment of peace before she scanned Kylo up and down with a look like only a defensive mother could. “Who’s this?

The feeling of dread that seemed to grip him threatened to crawl up his throat. They’d seen. Clearly, they’d seen. His father looked at him with an expression like he’d been slapped, but there was nothing for it, no evading another confrontation now. Kylo’s hand slid from his back to his waist, somewhat comforting. Hux took a breath and tackled the question head-on. “This is Kylo, my boyfriend.”

His mother stared him down, looking as though she was trying to see through him to his intentions. His father looked lost, a bit confused. He had the sinking feeling everything was about to go to hell.

And then, to Hux’s surprise, Kylo took the lead. He stepped forward with a smile and ramped up the charm, holding his hand out to shake his father’s hand. “Kylo Ren Solo. Nice to meet you.”

His mother’s eyebrows rose and she watched them both for a moment before stepping in and introducing herself.

Thankfully, Kylo took it in stride. “He’s told me a bit about you, but it’s nice to meet you in-person.”

“Has he now? I have no intention to intrude on your lives, but he hasn’t told us nearly enough about you. Tell me a bit about yourself! Where did you grow up, what are you in, all of that…”

Hux took a step back as she started interrogating him and felt the anxiety in his chest loosen a tiny bit as Kylo fielded his mother’s questions. The tension came back as he found himself standing with his father, who was uncomfortably quiet.

“You doing alright?”

His father’s brows furrowed and he frowned. “You’re gay?” the words weren’t angry yet, and Hux felt like a wire strung tight.

“I’m bi.”

His father looked troubled, but he looked to his wife for guiding clues and found her in an animated conversation with Kylo. “She sure doesn’t seem surprised. You’ve told us before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.” His voice cracked a bit. “Yeah, I have.”

“Have I…have I met him before?” There was no anger in his voice, but Hux could hear the fear.

“No, this is the first time I’ve introduced him.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “If you’re bi, why couldn’t you have found yourself a nice girl?”

Hux took a deep breath, trying to ease into the conversation. His father didn’t seem to be particularly perturbed, just confused and a bit upset. “Didn’t find any I thought I could stay with for long.”

“You think you’re going to stay with…him?”

“I don’t really know. Just going to have to wait and see.”

“Huh.”

It wasn’t exactly acceptance, but it was a far cry from rejection. Hux stood next to his father and was seized by the reality that even though things today were alright, he’d probably have to re-introduce Kylo again tomorrow. And tomorrow could go so much worse, more like the other times his father had found out he was seeing guys. It could end in him angry or upset or even yelling.

“He doesn’t seem too bad,” his father said quietly.

His mom was smiling as she spoke to Kylo, and not the fake smile she plastered on when she actually hated someone. His father hadn’t blown up upon finding out he had a boyfriend.

And yes, he would have to re-introduce Kylo. He really didn’t even doubt the reality of it. But. That was tomorrow.

This was alright.

* * *

An hour later, after the bout committee had finalized results, they took a break between sabre pools and DEs to award medals. Hux felt an inordinate amount of pride at the bronze hung about his neck, but it was nothing compared to the grin on Kylo’s face as he and Carol stood with his parents.

It all paled in comparison to the burst of pride he felt when people applauded and his dad yelled, “That’s my son!”

He didn’t cry. Definitely not. The hot stinging in his eyes was a bit of dust or something.

* * *

The rest of the tournament day went off with relatively few issues. Kylo and Carol left to go check out the city and Hux spent the day helping the other weapons and cheering.

That evening was a team dinner of pasta they’d ordered in, served up in the team captains’ rooms. It wasn’t as though there wasn’t enough for everyone, but by midnight, Zare was gearing up to take a load of people to Taco Bell in one of the vans. The women’s foil team ordered in Chinese to split with some of the women’s epeeists, and they’d holed up in one of the rooms watching repeats of Say Yes to the Dress and arguing good-naturedly. Avery and Beck fought a losing battle with one of the vending machines that had gotten stuck.

Really, just a typical tournament night.

* * *

The morning wasn’t much more organized. Half the men’s sabre team was late getting up, Beck had forgotten his loaner mask at the tournament the day before and almost missed mask-check while trying to hunt it down, and the men’s foil team managed to break most of their weapons. Minwa sat on the floor near their gear, bitching under her breath as she stripped and rebuilt the weapons she could.

As a team, Men’s Epee took fourth, which really wasn’t bad considering the trouble Hux had holding on to his grip and Zare being somewhat burned out. All in all, Hux fell asleep in the van on the way home with a feeling of a job well done.

* * *

Once back at school, everything started to catch up. Finals were starting, he’d managed to sign a three month lease in DC recommended by one of his future coworkers, so he’d have time to hunt for somewhere once he was in the city, and everything in the lab needed to be wrapped up for the year.

He’d almost managed to forget his anxiety about Kylo’s decision until he talked to his mother about him on the phone.

“I talked to him about your father when we met, you know.”

Hux frowned. “About what?”

“I just…I wanted to warn him, let him know that sometimes your father can be very…” she struggled for the right word, then settled on, “unpredictable. And that things went well, but he might need to introduce himself each time he sees us, and that your father might react differently each time.”

“Ah.” Hux sighed. “There’s not much I can do about it, mum. Dad’s going to do what he’s going to do, and if he’s upset that we’re dating, I get it, it’s just…it’s hard.”

“No, and I know that. But what I wanted to tell you is that Kylo talked to him for a couple hours today, about bikes and the old bikes that your father used to have and he never got upset.”

“What?”

“He didn’t introduce himself as your boyfriend today, _passerotto_. He just said he was your friend. And when I talked to him after, told him he didn’t have to do that, he said it was alright and he didn’t want to cause upset.”

Hux let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I know my opinion isn’t…exactly the most reliable when it comes to your personal life, but…he’s trying, I think.” There was a pause. “I just…I thought I ought to let you know.”

* * *

For the first time in years, finals weren’t hell. They were almost easy, mostly written by professors that knew they were lucky to keep seniors’ attention all the way up through the end of the semester. Hux breezed through, breathing a sigh of relief after his last one on Thursday night.

With finals done, they went out for celebratory drinks and Hux relished the thought of senior week. More than a week between finals and graduation where there wasn’t a single damn thing he had to do. They sat in a corner table of a bar on the other side of the river when Kylo brought things up again.

“So. You’re leaving in two weeks.”

“Yeah. Thoughts on what you want to do?”

Kylo looked worried. “I don’t know if this is going to work, I’m not…very good with relationships.”

“What, you don’t think the distance thing will kill you?” Hux’s mouth curled up a bit.

“No. The distance thing won’t be a thing.” Kylo spoke slowly, deliberately. “I don’t do well with the long distance stuff. I’m bad enough at reading people face to face, think about how bad it would be if it were only over text or the phone or skype.”

The smile slid right off Hux’s face. “I…oh.” That wasn’t quite what he’d expected. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the idea of Kylo breaking up with him hadn’t really occurred to him. At worst, he’d thought they would try to make it work long distance and break up in a year or so after drifting apart. Something twisted in his chest, ugly and angry and something else entirely. He fought and recovered quickly, this was what they’d agreed, they’d only ever been a temporary thing.

In a sickening flash, he understood the other feeling, and immediately wanted to throw up. Disgusting. Somehow he’d fallen in love and he hadn’t admitted it to anyone, not even himself.

In a moment of twisted introspection, he realized he’d known for some time. Kylo was hard and angry and sometimes out of control, but passionate and quite frankly, brilliant in an off-beat way. His weird sense of humor fit perfectly with Hux’s and when they worked, they _worked_ , even if they weren’t always the best at communicating and fuck, he really was in love, wasn’t he? It all clicked into place like a mathematical proof finally ending with the answer it was supposed to result in.

And here he was, getting dumped.

“It’s…it’s alright, I understand,” he said mechanically, trying to hide it. His he felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on his head. His face burned and his eyes stung a bit and he was turning red, wasn’t he? Shit. Shit shit shit. He was _not_ going to show weakness, not like this, not right now.

“Wait, what? No, I’m…” Kylo backtracked, clearly seeing that something was wrong. “Hold up, that came out wrong. The distance thing won’t be a thing because I’m going with you. I still want to give it a shot, I don’t like giving things up without a fight.”

The world seemed to stop.

“You _what_?”

“I mean…if you’re…if you’re interested in trying to keep what we have.” Kylo looked awkward. “Lando knows a guy who’s been looking to start a program like the Fighting Chance program we have at Millennium, and there’s a coaching position there for the taking if I want it. I’m pretty good with my hands, I’m guessing it won’t take me more than a month to find shiftwork somewhere. And I’ve got a fair bit saved up, since I work a lot but I don’t really buy much. So. I could make it work, if you were interested in…uhm…yeah. So I’ll go with you if you’ll…if you’ll have me.”

The idea of Kylo going _with_ him was intoxicating. He’d never even considered…his head spun and he could barely wrap his mind around it. “You would move all the way to the East Coast…with me?”

In fact, it was Kylo who was slowly burning red, embarrassment staining his ears bright and creeping over his face. “You know. Just…if you want to.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s just…it’s just an offer. I know maybe it’s a bit much, but I’m not great at communicating anyway and I don’t think it’d work as a long distance thing and it sort of seemed like maybe…” Kylo was coming up with excuses, he was trying to justify the offer and Kylo _thought he was going to say no._

“Yes.” Hux took his hand and gave him the most reassuring smile he could manage. “I’d…like that.”

“Oh.” Kylo looked a bit dazed. “Do you think we can make it work?”

And there it was. That was the question.

“I’m game to try if you are.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments, and concerns always welcome!


	15. Epilogue

_August_

 

They lay on the bed, looking up at the ceiling fan. It turned lazily as the mid-August warmth saturated the room. Moving boxes were piled against the walls, some full, most empty. Hux had unpacked and settled in two weeks earlier, and heaven forbid he leave his things in boxes, impossible to find.

There wasn’t much. Moving from small college apartments to another small apartment wasn’t a huge step. They didn’t have much in the way of furniture, but between them, they had just about everything they needed.

“So. We have our first apartment.”

Kylo could hear the shape of a smile in is voice. “I know. Doesn’t feel real.” The spinning fan lulled him into a relaxed state, and he wondered where they were supposed to go from there.

Hux sighed and shifted to his side, folding one arm up under his head. “But it is, you know? I keep telling myself it is. This is…very real. Pretty much the realest thing I’ve ever done, at least. I mean, look at us. We both have jobs, we’ve got an apartment, we’re doing alright. A lot better than a lot of people our age, at least. ”

Kylo closed his eyes, soaking it all in. “You really think that?”

“Yeah. I do.” The satisfaction was plain in his voice. “Even if we’re still figuring it out as we go.”

“That’s a huge understatement.”

There was silence, near stillness. Then Hux sighed and moved. “Do you think we’re taking it too fast?”

Kylo opened his eyes to find Hux had propped himself up on one arm and was looking at him with the kind of stare that made him feel like his entire life was etched on the inside of his eyeballs and Hux was reading it. “Probably. Like you said. We’ll figure it out.”

“We don’t even have a backup plan if it doesn’t work.”

“Listen,” Kylo said, trying to ward off his misgivings before they had the chance to grow into something more. “I’m not saying you worry too much, but you worry too much. If things go sour, I’ll see about getting my name taken off the lease and the apartment will be yours.”

“That’s not…”

“I know that’s not exactly what you meant, but…it’s the start of a backup plan, you know? Not that we’ll have to use it but…just in case.”

Hux sighed and dropped back on the pillow again. “Yeah. I guess.”

* * *

They existed in the same space. Their schedules were very different, but there was something comforting about coming home to crash in a shared space at the end of the day. They had their own spaces, places they could retreat to when they argued. Hux had his cubicle at the office, where he spent altogether too much time. Kylo rented out a small studio space through a startup, Catalyst LLC, with just enough room for him to work on the commissions that came in.

And suddenly it was the middle of September and they’d been there a month and somehow, it’d started to feel like home.

Maybe domestic bliss was too much to ask for, but something approaching normalcy? That was more than enough.

* * *

Two months. They’d made it through another fight, and things were holding stronger than ever. Learning to communicate took time, but they were getting there.

“You know, your mother has pictures of you on her desk,” Hux said. It came halfway through takeout Thai. Hux sat cross-legged on the couch next to him, working his way through a bowl of khao soi.

Kylo’s stomach turned uncomfortably, and he couldn’t even put it down to the chilis in his phat kaphrao. He forced himself to finish chewing and swallow the mouthful of chicken and rice as he tried to pull his thoughts together. “And?”

Hux sighed, resting the bowl in his lap. “I’m not pushing anything, I just…thought you ought to know. She misses you.” He said it as though it were simple fact, and no more complicated than that. “You live fairly close to your mother now, there’s no reason to stay isolated.”

“I don’t want to stir up any of the old family drama.”

“Does she even know you live in DC?” Hux looked faintly distressed. “I just thought that maybe…maybe eventually you could talk to her again. Even if it’s no more than a phone call once a month or something.”

“I’m not sure you understand the extent of the bridges I’ve burned there.”

“But she’s your mother, I’m sure she’ll…”

“Look. I get it.” Kylo took a deep breath. “I get it, alright? I know you don’t get what we’re like, but this is how we’ve been for a long time. You miss your mom, and there’s good reason for it. I just…don’t, alright? Not like you do.”

“That’s not why…”

“I moved out here to be with you, not for her sake.” It sounded childish, even to him, but he had to say it, otherwise it would sit in his chest and fester, and he knew what would happen when that happened. “I don’t want to contact her. Not yet, at least.”

There was a tense moment before Hux gave way. “Fine. Sorry.”

They ate the rest of dinner in silence, not awkward, but not as companionable as usual. Hux took the takeout containers and glasses and made for the kitchen. Kylo slumped on the couch, listening to the telltale sounds of Hux cleaning up in the kitchen. The playlist he turned on was familiar, half select songs from the Rat Pack, half less familiar voices that were no less soothing. There was a clink of silverware and glasses and the morning’s dishes as Hux ran fresh water for washing.

Two songs passed before Kylo dragged himself to his feet, deciding it was better to clear the air. He went to the kitchen and watched Hux, trying to judge his mood. When he decided they were on even enough grounds, he came up behind him, making sure to make enough noise that Hux knew he was there, and hugged him.

The very last notes of Hux’s aftershave clung to his skin at his jawline, worn off through the day. Hux tensed up, even though the hug was light. “Is this alright?” Kylo asked.

“Yeah.” Hux sounded small, until he took a breath and let it out slowly. They stood like that for a moment before Hux took another breath and pressed back into the hug. “Thanks.”

After a bit, Hux went back to working on the dishes. Kylo didn't let go, simply waited for him to air what was on his mind. And he did, eventually. “You don’t have to contact her, I didn’t mean to push you,” Hux said as he washed another glass, propping it on the drying rack. “And I _am_ sorry. I’ve been a bit off today.”

“What’s today?”

“It’s nothing, really. I should have had my shit together, but I didn’t.”

“What’s eating you?” Kylo pressed.

Hux sighed and paused in his washing the last of the dishes. “It’s my mom’s birthday. Stupid, I know, but it got me thinking that our parents are only so young, and…” He stopped. “Anyway. I’m sorry I pushed that on you. It was stupid of me.”

“You’re not wrong, not entirely. And you’re never stupid.”

Hux twisted in his arms enough to give him a wry look that managed to ease the remaining tension. “Alright, you fiend. You don’t have to tell me I’m right in order to flatter me.”

“I’m being honest.”

“Is that what this is? Fair’s fair, I guess. I’m just…afraid you’ve moved out here to be with me and I’m just…not enough, you know?” Hux shook his head. “I thought maybe it might be easier on you if you reconnected with family or something.”

“I wouldn’t have offered to move if that’s what I thought.”

Hux stilled, seeming to soak in the hug for a couple minutes before finding his voice again. “What are we doing?” Hux put the dish down in defeat, insecurities surfacing. “I mean, what are we really doing? Do you really think we can make this work?”

“I think we’ve made decisions, and now we have to wait and see if they were the right ones.”

“You think so?”

“I mean, yes. I wouldn't say so if I didn't." He grinned. "But right now, I think we should be dancing.” He tugged Hux away from the sink.

“You’re joking, no, okay, you’re not…” Hux laughed as Kylo spun him around and fell into the beat. There wasn’t much room in the kitchen, and neither of them were good at anything but slow dancing. “This is patently ridiculous.”

“Shh, let me enjoy it for now.”

Sinatra crooned from the phone speakers and Hux let him take the lead as they swayed. His hands clasped behind Kylo’s back and stayed there. It was something soft, something that neither of them was in public, but pleasant nonetheless.

When the song ended, Hux didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled Kylo closer to hook his chin over his shoulder. “Has anyone ever told you that behind the tough-guy façade you’re disgustingly romantic?”

“I’ll take that as a complement.”

It was never going to last. It was too good to last. They knew that. But for the time being it was alright. That was just how they were.

And Kylo wouldn’t have given it up for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars._   
>  _Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars._   
>  _In other words, hold my hand._   
>  _In other words, baby, kiss me._
> 
> _Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more._  
>  _You are all I long for, all I worship and adore._  
>  _In other words, please be true._  
>  _In other words, I love you._  
>   
> 
> And to Max, without whom this absolute bastard of a fic never would have been finished-thank you. Thank you so very much. You deserve the sun and the moon and the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me this long.
> 
> Some fun goodies for you:
> 
> A short piece, set a couple months after DFoC: [An Absence of Limoncello](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9059833/chapters/20608132) (WIP cause Carrie hit me hard and I'm still trying to do her justice in the second half)
> 
> A series of vignettes, set 10 years after DFoC: [Year after Year](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10013735)
> 
> Aesthetic posts:  
> [Kylo](http://versus-verses.tumblr.com/post/138195064254/different-forms-of-combat-college-au-aesthetic)  
> [Hux](http://versus-verses.tumblr.com/post/138195060614/different-forms-of-combat-college-au-aesthetic)  
> [Phasma](http://versus-verses.tumblr.com/post/138195067714/different-forms-of-combat-college-au-aesthetic)


End file.
